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THE 



MEMORY 



WASHINGTON; 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF HIS 
MOTHER AND WIFE. 

RELATIONS OF 

LAFAYETTE TO WASHINGTON 



INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES IN THE IJVES 
OF THE TWO PATRIOTS. . 



Washington — "A great and celebrated name; a name, thai keeps the name 
of this country respectable in every other on the Globe " 



BOSTON AND CAMBRIDGE: 

JAMES MUNROE AND COMPANY. 

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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by James 
Monroe and Company, in the C.cik's oJice of the District Court 
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Wright k Hasty, Printers, 
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PREFACE, 



In preparing this volume of Anecdotes and Incidents in the 
career of George Washington, the writer has consulted those 
records only, which may be relied on as truly authentic. A 
portion of the anecdotes have been chiefly gathered from the 
various journals and writings which Washington was accus- 
tomed to keep for his own private use. Throughout the whole 
work it has been our purpose to present a true picture of Wash- 
ington's own mind, his relation to public and private life ; and 
also to furnish to the young a high standard of moral excellence, 
and a safe guide to duty. History presents no higher example 
of integrity, courage and patriotism ; nor the character of a 
public man whose prominent feature is its beautiful symmetry — 
whose basis are its sterling virtues. From the abundance of 
materials the writer has selected such facts and incidents as 
may serve to give a correct view of the character and habits of 
Washington ; and such only as will best illustrate his public 
and private virtues, — his physical and mental powers, — his filial 
relations to an honored mother, and a devoted wife, whose lives 
are briefly noticed in the work,— and his connection with La- 
fayette. He has aimed to present the " American soldier " in 



^■^ 



IV PREFACE. 

the light of a true Patriot, a wise Counselor, and a living 
Christian. 

As our purpose is, not to present a continued history of the 
man so well known to the public, but to collect facts only in 
that history which may be instructive to young readers, we 
have therefore inserted those events, connected with the Revo- 
lution, which may answer the design of this work. We have 
avoided giving authority for every incident and anecdote, ou 
account of the interruptions it would make in the progress of 
the narrative ; but our readers may be assured of their unques- 
tionable authority. As we have aimed to give the best exem- 
plification of his virtues, and to present a true analysis of his 
character, in a familiar and anecdotal style, we have been under 
the necessity of omitting much historical matter connected with 
the public services of Washington in the cause of his country. 

May the young men of our country profit by his example, 
and be stimulated to imitate those virtues which adorned the 
illustrious character of Washington. 

N. Hkrvey. 

Dec. 20, 1851. 



CONTENTS. 



WASHINGTON, 9 

His Birth. Vigorous constitution. Stewart's description. 
An orphan under the care of his mother. Marriage of his 
eldest brother. Offer of Surveyor. General deportment. 
Mrs. Adams' description. Liberal economy. Character. 
Serenity of mind. Respect lo his memory by the Senate. 

MOTHER OF WASHINGTON, 20 

Where born. Simplicity of manners. Habits. Favorite 
Book. Removal of the'family. Names of her children. 
Mr. Washington's death. Estate bequeathed. Anec- 
dotes. Dependence on God. At Fredericksburg Hall, 
Her own home. Management of her own affairs. Meet- 
ing with Lafayette. Respect of her children. Decease. 
Tribute to her character. Monumental stone. Jackson's 
address. Wa^^hington's care for his mother. Meeting of 
parent and chUd. Respect to his mother. 

THE WIFE OF WASHINGTON, 32 

Birth and marriage with Col. Custis. A widow. Death 
of Col Custis. An incident. Marriage with Washington. 
Disposition of property. Home for life. Accompanies 
her husband. Death of a daughter and eldest son. Res- 
ignation. Attachment to home. Simplicity of manners. 
Letter to Mrs. Warren. The reply. First years at the 
seat of Congress. Reception of visitors. Tokens of af- 
fection. An anecdote. Faithful in affliction. Her ill- 
ness and death. 



INCIDENTS IN WASHINGTON'S EARLY LIFE, . . 42 

Washington's birth-place. Early education. Ten years 
old. First schoolmaster. Athletic exercises. Employ- 
ment of leisure hours. Influence with his schoolmates. 



▼1 CONTENTS, 

Disputed points. The favorite colt. Military exercises. 
Foundation of future action. Juvenile copy books. Rules. 
Surveying expedition. Letters. A military purpose. 
The purpose abandoned. Washington's acknowledgment. 



INCIDENTS IN HIS MILITARY LIFE, .... 55 

Mission to the French. New commission. A skillful 
movement. Leaving the field. Washington's delicacy. 
Old Jeremy. Sympathy. Disinterestedness. Recalled 
into service The two brothers. Resolution and hardi- 
hood A diary. Indian sagacity. Washington and the 
Indian Giving names. Whistling of bullets. Providen- 
tial. An exciting scene A rare compliment. The moth- 
er and the babes. The plough boy. The first engagement. 
The battle scene. Washington takes command. A dan- 
gerous position. Heroism. A gloomy period in 1776. 



MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE, .... 77 

Accidental meeting. The original picture. The marriage. 
The wedding night. The new home. Directions for the 
busts. A sad event. Testimony of aff"ection. The ball 
given up. Domestic life. Mrs. Washington and the car- 
penters Mrs. Washington at Morristown. Mrs. Wash- 
ington at home. A celebration in the camp. Sketch of 
the Newburg-house. Tucker's commission. The thief 
cured. The portrait. 



ANECDOTES OF THE REVOLUTION, . . . .95 

Adams and Washington. Taxation. The first martyrs. 
Jonas Parker. The first surrender. Arnold and Andre. 
Execution of Andre. General Baron Steuben. Miscon- 
duct of Lee. Washington spring. Wyoming Storming 
of Stony Point. Battle of Germantown. Battle of Cow- 
pens. Hard fare. Privations in the Revolution. Wo- 
man's patriotism. Disaffection of soldiers. Army at 
Valley Forge. Washington at prayer. Faith in God. 
Endurance. A wise move. The Hessians. Washington 
on the Delaware shore. Movement of a night. Trenton 
taken. Love of Liberty. The liberty tree. Count 
Donop Death of Colonel Custis. Nelson and his house. 
Mrs Caldwell's death. Washington in danger. The 
pine cannon. An incident at Guilford. Surrender of 
Cornwallis A joyous scene. Washington's influence. 
Elected President. Reception at Trenton. Reception at 
New York. Farewell to public life. Respect to Wash- 
ington. The equestrian statue. 



CONTENTS. VU 

PARTING SCENES, 150 

Aflieu to the soldiers. Affecting scene. Parting with his 
officois They take him by the hand. An incident. 
Parting with Congress. Resigns his commis-sion Respect 
to Adams. Suggestions at his last meeting with Coiigress. 
An unexpected visitor. At Mount Vernon. Letier to 
LafMyetie. Parting with Lafayette. Parting with his 
mother. A mother's advice Parting with his nephew. 
Directions about his lands and tomb. 

WASHINGTON AND LAFAYETTE 159 

Lafayette's interest in America. Makes known his pur- 
pose. Purchases a vessel. Secret departure. His arrest 
and pursuers. Discovered in the stable. hail.«; for Amer- 
ica. Arrival First sight of American st-enery. Letter 
to his wile. Lafayette's young friend. Introiiuction to 
Washington. Lafayette's commission. Honor and at- 
tacliment Arrival of the Frencli ambassador Svnipathy 
for the .soldier. Lafa- ette leaving for France. The plot. 
The queen of France. The magnificent sword. Lafay- 
ette's return and reception Arnold's plot detected The 
vetcan and the boy. Lafnyette at Monmouth. Return 
to Europe. Letter to V\ asliington. Visits America. 
Anetdutts— The vacant panel. Key to the Bastile. A 
medal and statue. Washington intercedes for Lafayette. 

LAFAYETTE'S LAST VISIT TO AMERICA, . . 193 

Passage in the Cadmus. Arrival at New York. Visits 
Joseph Bonaparte. Visitors Meeting 0:d companions. 
Reception at Boston. Anecdote of a little t.>irl At Mur- 
blthead— The number of widows. At Botfimoie—The 
tent At Washington — Vote of Congi'ess. At Yorktuivn — 
Appearance of the town. Civic wreath. Briti-h cnndles. 
At Camdtn— The generous stranger At Charksiown — 
Laying the corner stone. At i5^"S^T<sHrt— Affecting inci- 
dent At Nashville — Meetina: an old soldier An accident. 
Red Jacket Incident at Utica. Visits the tomb of Wash- 
ington Parting with America. Death of Lafayette. 
The wife of Lafayette Letter to Washington. The 
meeting in prison. The closing scene. 

WASHINGTON'S LAST DAYS, 217 

Early rising. Morning habits. Description of Mount 
Vernon. Scenery. Tiie mansion. Reception of Mr. 
Weld. Illness and death of Washington. Exposure.- 
Last words. The grave of Washington. His will. Re- 
ligious thoughts. 



Vlll CONTENTS. 

BOSTON, 239 

Boston Patriots — Samual Adams. James Otis. John Ad- 
ams. John Hancock. Robert Treat Paine. Joseph War- 
ren. Josiah Quincy, Jr. Thomas Gushing. Wm. Phillips. 
Paul Revere. Suffering in Boston. The "minute men." In 
CUarlestown. Bunker hill. Seventeenth of June. Col- 
umns advance. Washington and the army. Boston in 
gloom. Boston evacuated. American congratulations. 
Condition of Boston. The Washington monument. Bun- 
ker Hill monument. Monument at Lexington. Monu- 
ment at Concord. Monument at Danvers. Monument 
at West Cambridge. Monument at Acton. Monument to 
Buckminster. Washington's head- quarters. Riedesel 
house. The Washington elm. 

ANECDOTES OF WASHINGTON, 283 

Example of total abstinence. Washington's debtor. Wash- 
ington and his friends. Escape of General Washington. 
Washington's punctuality. Washington's example. Wash- 
ington's confession. Braddock and Washington. Mrs. 
Washington's dream. Hessians and the farmers. The 
lawyers and saddle-bags. A beautiful design. Washing- 
ton and the young people. Washington's self command. 
Washington and the Corporal. Washington and Morris. 
An emergent case. Too familiar. Blind in the service. 
Public spirit. Washington's hospitality. A friend to the 
poor. Lafayette's son. The effect of smiles. The old 
charger. Washington and Payne. The meeting-house 
question. Juvtnile Anecdotes — Practical education. 
George and his hatchet. Instructive experiment. Ju- 
venile production. Washington's muscular strength. 
Washington and the Stinsons. 



THE 



MEMORY OF WASHINGTON. 



BIRTH AND CHARACTER. 



George "Washington was born in the parish of 
Washington, County of Westmoreland, and State of 
Virginia, February 22d, 1732. He was the youngest 
son of Augustine Washington and Mary Ball, his 
second wife. He descended from John Washing- 
ton, a native of England, of a respectable family 
who emigrated to America about the year 1657, 
and settled on the banks of the Potomac at Pope's 
creek, where he married a daughter of the gentle- 
man from whom that stream derives its name. The 
name and family of Washington are now extinct in 
the land of the Pilgrims. Washington being desir- 
ous of leaving some memorial to his relatives, 
caused inquiries to be made, and the result of the 
investigation was the conviction that none of the 
family existed. He stood alone in the moral atmos- 
phere of his own glory and wisdom, and left no 
child to inherit his fame but the country which he 
faithfully served. 
1 



10 THE MEMORY 

Washington was rather above the ordinary size. 
His tall and manly figure gave him a commanding 
appearance ; and his robust frame and vigorous 
constitution, enabled him to endure hardships and 
sufferings under which others would have withered, 
and gone down to an early grave. The nature of 
his constilaiion, and consequently the preservation 
of his own health, demanded a large degree of 
manual exercise, to which he was accustomed in 
early years, as well as in all his subsequent life. 
The form of Washington presented a complete 
model of physical power and manly gracefulness. 

His height was about five feet eleven, chest full, 
his limbs slender, but well shaped, and muscular. 
His head small, his eyes of a light gray color. Mr. 
Stewart, an eminent portrait painter, says, ** that 
there are features in his face totally different from 
whatever he observed in that of any other human 
being. The eye sockets are larger than what he 
ever saw before, and the upper part of the nose 
broader. All his features were indicative of the 
strongest passions." Officers that served under his 
command during the war, say, that they never 
saw him smile during all the time they were with 
him. When in his sixty-fourth year, though a 
healthy man, he appeared much older. The vari- 
ous perplexities and hardships of life which he met 
with in his public capacities, very sensibly impaired 
his constitution, and gave him an aged appearance. 

At the early age of ten years he was deprived of 
a father's care and instruction, but whose place was 



OF WASHINGTON. 11 

admirably filled by a kind and judicious mother, to 
whom he became the object of earnest solicitude, 
and unwearied attention, and who constantly incul- 
cated those high principles of religion and virtue, 
which formed the basis of a noble character, ever 
maintained and illustrated, in all the eventful 
periods and vicissitudes of his life. His education 
was confined to those branches of knowledge, which 
were strictly useful, and were mainly directed 
according to the judgment of his mother. 

In 1743, by the marriage of his eldest brother, 
Lawrence, to a sister of George W. Fairfax, a mem- 
ber of the Council, he became acquainted with Lord 
Fairfax, who was proprietor of the Northern Neck of 
Virginia, and who offered Washington, when in his 
eighteenth year, the office of Surveyor in the western 
part of that territory. He accepted the offer, and 
commenced his investigations respecting unoccupied 
lands, and forming opinions of their value, which 
was of great service to him in after life, and which 
gave him advantages in adding to his private 
property. 

The manners of Washington were rather re- 
served, though in private circles, and on public 
occasions, he showed his highest gratification in 
social conversation, and in the friendly intercourse 
of Society. One who was a companion in arms, 
speaks of him thus, — " His person and whole deport- 
ment exhibited an unaflfected and indescribable dig- 
nity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all who 
approached him were sensible ; and the attachment 



12 THE MEMORY 

of those who possessed his friendship and enjoyed 
his intimacy was ardent, but always respectful. 
His temper was humane, benevolent and concilia- 
tory, but he was sensitive to any thing apparently 
offensive, which experience had taught him to 
watch and correct." 

Mrs. Adams describes the appearance of Wash- 
ington when she first saw him in company with 
General Lee, on their arrival at Braintree ; she 
says,"^ " I was struck with General Washington. 
You had prepared me to entertain a favorable 
opinion of him, but I thought the half was not told 
me. Dignity, with ease and complacency, the gen- 
tleman and soldier, look agreeably blended in him. 
Modesty marks every line and feature of his face. 
Those lines of Dryden instantly occurred to me, 

* Mark his majestic fabric ! he's a Temple 
Sacred by birth, and built by hands divine.' " 

In all his private and temporal matters he main- 
tained an exact but liberal economy. His benefac- 
tions were liberal, but judicious; possessing an 
affectionate heart, and an hospitable temper, he 
" opened his hand wide unto the poor and the 
needy." Real distress came often kneeling at his 
door, and w^ent away relieved, blessing the gift and 
the giver. 

Washington possessed a well balanced mind, as 
was clearly developed in the many trying exigences 

* Letters of Mrs. Adams, Vol. I. 



OF WASHINGTON. 13 

of his history. The prominenl feature of his char- 
acter was solid judgment, rather than dazzling 
genius. He was truly a devout man, a sincere 
believer in the Christian faith, and the Christian's 
hope. Firm in his integrity, wise in council, and 
devout before God, he prosecuted all his plans with 
that serenity and steadiness of heart which placed 
him above the frowns and smiles of man, and which 
caused his example to be oftener admired than 
imitated. His life corresponded with his principles. 
We see by his private letters, that in acting for his 
country, he often distrusted his own abilities for the 
high station he occupied ; promising no more than 
what his honest exertions and integrity of purpose 
could perform ; everywhere and on all occasions 
relying on a just providence for success; so that 
he was enabled to carry with him, into the retire- 
ment of private life and honorable old age, the 
thought of having lived not for himself, but for the 
people. 

We cannot read his history without perceiving 
that he was invested with superior virtues, and 
guided by a superior intelligence. It has been 
truly said, that " his virtues saved his country, 
and but for the unshaken confidence inspired by 
these, the hero of Saratoga might have superseded 
him in his command, and the surrender of Bur- 
goyne produced the ruin of our cause." 

There are scenes in which the character of a 
man is brought clearly to view ; when the virtues 
of that character shine with brilliant lustre amid 



14 THE MEMORY 

thick darkness and great trial. Such scenes marked 
the history of Washington, in which he developed 
the decisions of his great mind, and by his conduct 
drew forth the applause of a whole nation. When the 
wearied energies of his soldiers were fast dying away, 
and they retreating month after month, before the 
enemy, — when encamped in temporary huts, penni- 
less, and despairing ; and when the torch of liberty 
glimmered only in the mountains of the Hudson, 
the voice of the hero was heard calling upon Con- 
gress to act, and to act promptly, knowing that the 
safety of the people depended upon measures 
adopted by Congress then, to relieve a suffering 
army. 

When the death of Washington was announced in 
the House of Representatives, by a member, he said, 
" that more than any other individual has he con- 
tributed to form this wide spreading empire, and to 
give to the Western world independence and free- 
dom." He was indeed the " American Soldier," 
possessing that courage which was far from being 
stimulated by a false ambition or pride of success. 
His object was freedom to a nation he loved, and 
this nerved him to encounter great dangers, and 
those more appalling than the glittering steel or the 
roar of artillery. All his movements as a military 
man were distinguished for wisdom, great caution, 
and matured judgment. In his private letters he 
says, " The enemy must never be permitted to gain 
foothold on our shores," a resolution ever prompt- 
ing him to devise such measures and pursue such 



OF WASHINGTON. 15 

plans, as would enable him to act to the best advan- 
tage, and to see no favorable opportunity pass 
without striking a decisive blow. 

He has been termed, says one writer, " an Amer- 
ican Fabius, but those who compare his actions 
with his means, will perceive as much of Marcellus 
as of Fabius in his character. Not relying upon 
those chances which sometimes give a favorable 
aspect to attempts apparently desperate, his conduct 
was regulated by calculations made upon the capac- 
ities of his army, and the real situation of his 
country." 

It is not saying too much, wdien it is affirmed 
that the character of Washington is a safe model 
for the imitation of all classes of society. In his 
public and private capacity, he was equally admired 
when living, and his example is still cherished in 
the memory of a grateful people. The noble quali- 
ties of his character were all exemplified in his life, 
which renders the contemplation of his example 
instructive, in whatever light we may view it. In 
whatever situation in life we view this great man, 
we shall discover in him a firm reliance on God, — 
a rational and exalted piety. In scenes of great 
trial, when involved in almost hopeless difficulties, 
we see him depending on the aid of that 
Providence which governs the affairs of nations. 
Perceiving the true relation subsisting between the 
duties we owe to God, and those we are required 
to sustain here to each other, and to our fellow- 
men, he acted steadily and faithfully in the dis- 



16 THE MEMORY 

charge of all moral obligations. Acting on this 
principle, a true discharge of duty, from early life, 
enabled him to bring to a successful issue the great 
enterprise of freedom, and to secure the affections 
and esteem of an independent people. 

When his earthly career was about closing — and 
during the short period of his illness, he arranged, 
with his usual serenity of mind, all the remaining 
affairs connected with his establishment at Mount 
Vernon, which required his personal attention. 
Conscious of his approaching dissolution, he gave 
every evidence of a calm and submissive heart to 
the Providence of God. With that equanimity of 
mind, for which his life was so uniformly distin- 
guished, he said to his friend and Physician, Dr. 
Craik, who held his head in his lap at the bed-side, 
" doctor, I am dying, and have been dying for a long 
time, but I am not afraid to die." A full account 
of his death and burial will be found on another 
page of this book. 

The death of Washington summoned the nation to 
pay their tribute of respect to his memory and life. 
The news of his death spread like a cloud over the 
whole country — one general lamentation, " Wash- 
ington is dead !" was heard in every town and city; 
till the whole land sympathizing with the event, 
mourned the loss of the Patriot, the Citizen and the 
Christian. 

Public demonstrations of respect were decreed to 
his memory, and as his remains were borne in 
silent procession to the tomb at Mount Vernon, the 



OF WASHINGTON. 17 

nation expressed their grief in silent sorrow and in 
solemn thought. 

Immediately after the passage of resolutions, ex- 
pressive of the sentiments of the people, a written 
message was received from the President, accom- 
panying a letter from Mr. Sear, in which he said, 
'' this will inform you that it had pleased divine 
Providence to remove from this life our excellent 
fellow citizen, George Washington, who, by the 
purity of his life and a long series of services to his 
country, is rendered illustrious through the world. 
It remains for an affectionate and grateful people, in 
whose hearts he can never die, to pay suitable honor 
to his memory." 

The Senate addressed the President the follow- 
ing letter. 

" This event, so distressing to all our fellow 
citizens, must be peculiarly heavy to you who have 
been long associated with him in deeds oi patriotism. 
Permit us sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On 
this occasion it is manly to weep. To lose such a 
man, at such a crisis, is no common calamity to the 
world — our country mourns a father. The Al- 
mighty disposer of human events, has taken from us 
our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes 
us to submit with reverence, to Him who maketh 
darkness his pavilion." 

" With patriotic pride we review the life of our 
Washington, and compare him with those of other 
countries, who have been preeminent in fame. 
Ancient and modern names are diminished before 



18 THE MEMORY 

him. The scene is closed, and we are no longer 
anxious lest misfortune should sully his glory : he 
has traveled on to the end of his journey, and car- 
ried with him an increasing weight of honor, he has 
deposited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish 
it; where malice cannot blast it. Favored of 
Heaven, he departed without exhibiting the weak- 
ness of humanity ; magnanimous in death, the 
darkness of the grave could not obscure his bright- 
ness. Such was the man whom we deplore. 
Thanks to God, his glory is consummated. Washing- 
ton yet lives on earth in his spotless example — 
his spirit is in heaven. Let his countrymen con- 
secrate the memory of the heroic general, the 
patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let 
them teach their children never to forget that the 
fruits of his labors and his example are their inherit- 
ance." 

To this address the President of the Senate 
replied with emotions of deep feeling, and in a 
manner which commanded the utmost attention, 
and the most profound silence. " I have attended 
him," he says, " in his highest elevation and most 
prosperous felicity, with uniform admiration of his 
wisdom, moderation, and constancy. Among all our 
original associates in that memorable league of this 
continent in 1774, which first expressed the sover- 
eign will of a free nation in America, he was the 
only one remaining in the general government. 
I feel myself alone, bereaved of my last brother : yet 
I derive a strong consolation from the unanimous 



OF WASHINGTON. 19 

disposition which appears in all ages and classes, 
to mingle their sorrows with mine on this common 
calamity with the world." 

The character of this great man has been drawn 
by the ablest pens, and held up in both hemispheres, 
as a shining example to all generations. To him 
is conceded that personal courage and firmness of 
resolution, which remained unshaken, amidst ap- 
palling dangers and trying difficulties. His ambi- 
tion to succeed, in securing a permanent freedom 
for his country, was so regulated by principles, and 
controlled by circumstances, that it is worthy of a 
place among the virtues which adorn his character. 

The name of Washington is dear to every patriot- 
ic every American. " His country is his monument, 
and its history his epitaph ; so long as public and 
private worth is cherished, so long as true glory is 
honored, talents admired, or integrity appreciated in 
the world, so long shall the name of Washington be 
quoted as the great example of virtuous heroism 
and true patriotism." 

With the lapse of time the events of false heroism 
fade away and are lost in oblivion, but the glory 
and fame of Washington will shine with increasing 
lustre and be remembered to the latest generation. 



20 THE MEMORY 



THE MOTHER OF WASHINGTON. 

There are no records left of the early life of ihis 
illustrious woman. She was born in 1706, in the 
colony of Virginia, and descended from a respecta- 
ble family of English Colonists by the name of 
Ball. The character of this excellent lady evinces 
a well informed mind, and a naturally powerful 
intellect. Those habits of industry, economy, and 
usefulness, combined with superior moral qualities, 
developed in her later years, will give some clue to 
the character of her early education. She is de- 
scribed by those who knew her as a beautiful 
woman, of simple address, great decision, and 
uncommon strength of mind. When about fifteen 
years old, a young female friend by her side was 
struck dead by a flash of lightning, which much 
afl^ected the nervous system of Mrs. Washington, 
and ever after caused her to fear the approach of a 
thunder shower. 

In the ordinary duties of life she aimed to render 
others happy. She was punctual to her promise, 
obliging, and hospitable to her friends and neigh- 
bors, and "always received her visitors with a 
smiling welcome." They v/ere never asked to 
stay but once — when they purposed to leave, she 
would aid their departure by every possible means 



OF WASHINGTON. 21 

in her power. That beautiful simplicity which 
characterized Mrs. Washington was manifested by 
her on all occasions ; at home and abroad, in the 
private circle and in public assemblies. On one 
occasion, a ball was given at Fredericksburg in 
honor of her son George, when in the full tide of 
his military glory. His mother was present, and 
when the clock struck nine, she says to him with 
perfect simplicity, "Come, George, it is time to go 
home." 

An old volume printed in the year 1685, entitled 
" Contemplations Moral and Divine, by Sir Mathew 
Hale, Chief Justice of the Court of King's Bench," 
bears evidence of its being a favorite book with 
Mrs. Washington — her name being written within 
in her own hand writing. Some portions of it appear 
*to have been very much used. From this book she 
was accustomed to read daily lessons of piety and 
wisdom to her children. One chapter which ap- 
pears to have been selected and marked for im- 
portant lessons, is titled, " The Great Audit. ^'' 
This book contains many valuable lessons of virtue 
and truth, many golden maxims and precepts, 
which lodged in a youthful mind, would greatly 
aid in the formation of a good character. She 
was the mother of two daughters and four 
sons. George was the eldest child, and born 
in the first home of her wedded life. Soon after 
his birth, the family removed " to an estate owned 
by Mr. Washington in Stafford county, Va., on the 
east side of the Rappahannoc River, opposite 



22 THE MEMORY 

Fredericksburg. The names of her six children 
were George, Betty, Samuel, John Augustine, 
Charles, and Mildred. The last died in his infancy. 

In 1743, April 12th, Mr. Washington died, aged 
49 years, leaving his widow and the children with 
limited pecuniary resources. Mr. Sparks states, 
however, that " each of his sons inherited from him 
a separate plantation. To the eldest, Lawrence, he 
bequeathed an estate near Hunting creek, after- 
wards Mount Vernon, which then consisted of 
twenty-five hundred acres ; and also other lands 
and shares in iron works situated in Virginia and 
Maryland, which were very productive. The 
second son, had for his part an estate in West- 
moreland. To George were left the lands and 
mansion where his father lived at the time of his 
decease, and each of the other sons an estate of six 
or seven hundred acres. Confiding in the prudence 
of the mother, he directed that the proceeds of all 
the property of her children should be at her dis- 
posal, till they should respectively come of age." 

Mrs. Washington now had the exclusive direc- 
tion and education of her children. And from 
much incidental testimony, it is evident that the 
children enjoyed much happiness under the pa- 
ternal roof of a wise and kind mother. All testi- 
mony shows that she taught her children to follow 
the path of wisdom, virtue and truth. 

We shall relate a few anecdotes illustrative of 
the character of Mary Washington. 

Lawrence Washington was a companion of 



OF WASHINGTON. 23 

George, and when visiting there at her residence, 
shared frequently in her kindness and hoi^pitality. 
He says, " I was often there with George my play- 
mate, schoolmate and companion. Of the mother, 
I was more afraid than of my own parents ; she 
awed me in the midst of her kindness, for she was 
indeed truly kind ; and even now when time has 
whitened my locks and I am the grandfather of the 
second generation, I could not behold that majestic 
woman without feelings it is impossible to describe." 

Mrs. Washington maintained her right of private 
judgment, and always required a prompt obe- 
dience from those she employed in her affairs. On 
one occasion she reproved an agent in her employ, 
who relying upon his own judgment had dis- 
obeyed her orders, saying, " I command you ! 
There is nothing left for you but to obey." 

Mrs. Washington felt her dependence on God, 
and often, as she thought of our country's cause, 
would she raise her prayer to him, whom she 
believed would sustain the cause of Liberty. When 
after the long years of gloom and suffering which 
hung over our country, she being informed of the 
surrender of Cornwallis, raised her hands with 
profound reverence and gratitude towards heaven, 
and fervently exclaimed, " Thank God I — war will 
now be ended, and peace, independence, and hap- 
piness, bless our country." 

In 1776, when Washington with his army made 
the successful passage across the Delaware, the 
news spread as on wings to every part of the 



24 THE MEMORY 

country. The intelligence was communicated to 
his mother, and numerous friends came to rejoice 
with her on so auspicious an event. She received 
the tidings with great joy, and expressed her grati- 
tude to God for the bright prospects now dawning 
upon her native country. But in reference to the 
praises lavished upon her son, she remarked, that 
" George appeared to have deserved well of his 
country for such signal services," and added, " But 
my good sirs, — here is too much flattery ! — still 
George will not forget the lessons I have taught 
him — he will not forget himself, though he is the 
subject of so much praise." 

The arrival of Washington at Fredericksburg 
was hailed with universal joy by the inhabitants of 
the town. They made preparations to celebrate 
the occasion by a splendid ball. When Mrs. 
Washington received an invitation to attend, she 
replied, that " although her dancing days were 
pretty well over, she should feel happy in contri- 
buting to the general festivity." When she en- 
tered the Hall leaning on the arm of her son 
George, the assembly were silent as they both with 
quiet dignity and unaffected grace slowly advanced. 
The European officers present "regarded with 
astonishment the unadorned attire and simple 
graceful manners of the mother of Washington." 
Having by her presence honored the festive scene 
till the clock struck nine, she expressed the desire 
that the happiness of all might continue undimin- 
ished until the time of separation should arrive. 



OF WASHINGTON. 25 

adding, that " it was time for old people to be at 
home." She retired as she entered, leaning on the 
arm of her son. This was the last occasion on 
which Washington united in the dance. 

Having become reestablished at Mount Vernon, 
it was the earnest desire of Washington to have 
his mother reside ' at his own home. But it was 
her wish, notwithstanding the entreaties of her 
children to remove to Mount Vernon, to maintain 
a separate residence by herself, and attend the 
management of its affairs. Thus in her own 
tranquil retreat, where those who knew her loved 
her, she remained, and continued to receive visits 
from her friends and children, though repeat- 
edly urged by her children to spend the residue of 
life with them. She would invariably reply — " I 
thank you for your affectionate ofTers, but my 
wants are few in this life, and I feel perfectly com- 
petent to take care of myself." When her son-in- 
law. Col. Lewis, proposed to take the general su- 
perintendence of her affairs, she answered — " Do 
you. Fielding, keep my books in order, for your 
eyesight is better than mine, but leave the execu- 
tive management to me." 

When Marquis de Lafayette visited Fredericks- 
burg for the purpose of bidding adieu to the mother 
of Washington, he repaired to her humble abode 
accompanied by one of her grandsons. As they 
came near the house, they observed an elderly lady 
with a plain straw bonnet on her head, working in 
the garden. "There is my grandmother," said the 
2 



26 THE MEMOKY 

young gentleman. " Ah, Marquis ! " she ex- 
claimed, " you see an old woman ;— but come, I 
can make you welcome to my poor dwelling with- 
out the parade of changing my dress." In conver- 
sation with Mrs. Washington at this interview) 
Lafayette spoke of the General, his friend and asso- 
ciate, with a warm heart, and lavished upon him 
the praise ever due to his name. Mrs. Washing- 
ton replied, ''lam not surprised at lohat George 
has done^for he was alivays a good hoy.^''^ 

The history of this excellent woman affords a 
bright example of wisdom and goodness. During 
the later part of her life, she was accustomed to 
repair daily to a secluded spot near her dwelling, 
formed by overhanging rocks and trees; and there 
alane in thought and meditation she sought in 
prayer to God that appropriate preparation for 
death, which she was admonished by advanced age 
must soon come. 

Mrs. Washington required of her children that 
respect which is ever due to an honored parent. 
That respect was ever paid to her by them. It is 
stated by Mr. Custis, the Grandson of Martha 
Washington, that " to the last moments of his 
venerable p;irent, he yielded to her will the most 
implicit obedience, and felt for her person and 
character the highest respect and the most enthusi- 
astic attachment." 

Mrs. Washington retained possession of her 

* Memoirs of Mary Washington. 



OF WASHINGTON. 27 

faculties, unimpaired to the last. The last three 
years of her life, her physical frame was much 
wasted by a distressing malady, (cancer in the 
breast) with which she was long afflicted. After a 
long life of usefulness, and having been a widow 
forty-six years, she calmly closed her earthly 
career, August 25th, 1789, aged .83. 

The following extract from the pen of Mr. Sparks, 
is a just tribute to the character of the mother of 
Washington, on whom devolved the responsibility of 
five young children, the eldest being but eleven 
years old at the decease of her husband. 

''In these important duties, Mrs. Washington 
acquitted herself with great fidelity to her trust, and 
with entire success. Her good sense, assiduity, 
tenderness, and vigilance overcome every obstacle ; 
and as the richest reward of a mother's solicitude 
and toil, she had the happiness to see all her chil- 
dren come forward with a fair promise into life, 
filling the sphere allotted them in a manner equally 
honorable to themselves, and to the parent who had 
been the only guide of their principles, conduct, and 
habits. She lived to witness the noble career of her 
eldest son, till by his own rare merits he was raised 
to the head of a nation, and applauded and revered 
by the whole world. It has been said that there 
never was a great man, the elements of whose great- 
ness might not be traced to the original character- 
istics or early influence of his mother. If this be 
true, how much do mankind owe to the mother of 
Washington." 



28 THE MEMORY 

It is well known that the remains of Mrs. Wash- 
ington were deposited in the burial place of 
Fredericksburg, in Virginia, where she resided till 
the time of her death. The spot remained for a 
long time undistinguished by any monumental 
stone. But according to history, the corner-stone 
of a beautiful monument was laid with appropriate 
services, on the 7th of May, 1833. The form is 
pyramidal, and the height of the obelisk forty-five 
feet. The shaft is adorned by a colossal bust of 
Washington, and surmounted by the American 
Eagle, sustaining a civic crown above the hero's 
head ; and with this inscription — 

MARY, 

THE MOTHER OF 
WASHINGTON. 

The address was delivered by General Jackson, 
then President of the United States, who repaired 
to Fredericksburg, attended by several members of 
the National Cabinet, and uniting with the people 
assembled on the occasion, celebrated the event with 
solemn and deeply interesting services. We present 
the following extract of the address. 

*'In the grave before us lie the remains of his 
mother. Long has it been unmarked by any 
monumental tablet, but not unhonored. You have 
undertaken the pious duty of erecting a column to 
her name, and of inscribing upon it the simple but 



OP WASHINGTON. 29 

affecting words, * Mary, the Mother of Washing- 
ton.' No eulogy could be higher, and it appeals 

to the heart of every American The 

mother and son are beyond the reach of human 
applause ; but the bright example of paternal and 
filial excellence, which their conduct furnishes, can- 
not but produce the most salutary effects upon our 
countrymen. Let their example be before us from 
the first lesson which is taught the child, till the 
mother's duties yield to the course of preparation 
and action which nature prescribes for him." .... 
"Fellow citizens, at your request, and in your 
name, I now deposit this plate in the spot destined 
for it, and when the American Pilgrim shall in after 
ages, come up to this high and holy place, and lay 
his hand upon this sacred column, may he recall the 
virtues of her who sleeps beneath, and depart with 
his affections purified, and his piety strengthened, 
while he invokes blessings upon the mother of 
Washington." 



Washington's caee foe his mother. 

Previous to Washington's departure from his 
native state, to take command of the troops at Cam- 
bridge, he gave considerable attention to his mother's 
comfort. He caused her to be removed from her 
country residence to Fredericksburg. By this 
change she was brought in nearer proximity to her 
relatives and friends, and more secure from dan- 



30 THE MEMORY 

gers than any precaution could have rendered her 
situation in the country. This arrangement was 
agreeable to Mrs. Washington, as she testified to 
him, when she gave him her parting blessing on his 
leaving for Cambridge. This change in her situ- 
ation did not deprive her of visiting the country 
residence; though long past the meridian of life, she 
continued her plans of self-support and usefulness. 
It was her almost daily custom to visit her little 
farm, which lay in the vicinity of the town, in an 
old-fashioned open chaise ; and while there, to drive 
about the fields, giving directions and personally 
superintending all the aflairs. 



THE MEETING OF PARENT AND CHILD. 

When the American Army returned from 
Yorktown, Washington repaired immediately to 
Fredericksburg, attended by a splendid suite, com- 
posed of American and European officers, who had 
been his companions in toils and suflfering during 
seven years. As soon as Washington had dis- 
mounted, he sent a messenger to inform his mother 
of his arrival, with a request when it would be her 
pleasure to receive him. On the return of the 
messenger he repaired, unaccompanied and on foot, 
to the dwelling of his mother, where he found her 
alone, occupied with her ordinary domestic duties. 
She met him on the threshold with a cordial em- 
brace, her face beaming with unmingled pleasure. 



OF WASHINGTON. 31 

She welcomed his return with a mother's love. 
Seeing the evidences of care and responsibilities on 
his noble countenance, she immediately inquired 
for his health, then turning the conversation to 
scenes familiar to each of them, they spent some 
time in calling to remembrance mutual friends 
and former times. It is said, however, that she 
made not a simple allusion to the peerless fame of 
her son's triumphant career. 



KESPECT TO HIS MOTHEK. 

There are many proofs in the published corres- 
pondence of Washington, of the attention and re- 
spect which he ever paid to his mother. He 
assigns his absence, while on a visit to her, a sa 
reason for not previously replying to a letter from 
the Secretary of Congress ; and in a letter subse- 
quent to this time, to Major General Knox, he 
assigns the same reason for a similar delay. 
When his mother was ill, he felt that she claimed 
his undivided attention, and without reserve pre- 
sented her claims as superior to any public obliga- 
tion. In a letter written towards the close of the 
year 1778, he makes allusions to a long visit with 
his mother under the paternal roof; and from his 
occasional letters it is evident that he was not un- 
mindful of her wants during his absence, and while 
engaged in his country's service. 



32 THE MEMORY 



THE WIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



" Thanks for the picture of thy daily life, 
Thy bright example, Daughter, Mother, Wife." 

Our readers will find in this volume several anec- 
dotes illustrating the character and virtues of the 
wife of Washington. We therefore purpose, in 
a brief sketch of this excellent lady, to give a few 
outlines only of her history, serving to show, that 
she was worthy to be the wedded companion of 
the illustrious chief. In following her history 
through the quiet valley of domestic life, and in all 
her public relations to Washington, during a long 
and eventful war, we shall see developed the 
noblest traits in the character of woman. She was 
a fair representative of an ancient people, possess- 
ing the qualities of a noble mind, agreeable and 
lovely in her manners and person, she became the 
object of admiration and praise to all who knew 
her, and won the early esteem and devoted affection 
of Washington. 

She was born in May, 1732, in the County of 
New Kent, where she received the name of Martha 
Dandridge. At the age of seventeen, she united in 
marriage with Colonel Daniel P. Custis, and settled 
on his plantation in her native land. Her residence 



OF WASHINGTON. 33 

was known as the " White House,^^ and was the 
abode of genuine hospitality. In early life she was 
left a widow, with three children, together with the 
responsible trust of directing in all the pecuniary 
interests which her kind husband left to her con- 
trol. It is said that " she managed with great 
ability the extensive landed and pecuniary concerns 
of the estate, making loans on mortgages, of money, 
and through her students, and agents, conducting 
the sales on exportation of the crops to the best 
possible advantage." 

The decease of Colonel Custis was preceded a 
short time by the death of a son, their eldest child. 
After this event Mr. Custis sank prematurely into 
the grave, before he had scarcely attained the 
prime of manhood. An incident illustrating a 
prominent trait in his character is said to have 
occurred just before his death. We state it as 
related by an immediate descendant : " When on 
his death bed, he sent for a tenant, to whom in 
settling an account, he was due one shilling. The 
tenant begged that the Colonel who had ever been 
kind to his tenantry, would not trouble himself at 
all about such a trifle, as he, the tenant, had for- 
gotten it long ago." But I have not, rejoined Mr. 
Custis, and bidding the creditor take up the coin 
which had been purposely placed on his pillow, 
exclaimed, " Now my accounts are all closed with 
this world," and soon after breathed his last. 

In 1759, January 6th, Mrs. Custis was married 
to Colonel George Washington. She possessed a 



34 THE MEMORY 

large property, upwards of a hundred thousand 
dollars. The guardianship of her children, a son 
six, and a daughter four years old, she committed 
to the care of her husband, together with her 
property. They were united in marriage at the 
White House, and soon after removed to Mount 
"Vernon, which is situated on the south bank of the 
Potomac, nine miles below Alexandria, and fifteen 
miles from Washington. This choice spot became 
their home for life, — and here is seen this day, the 
resting place of their remains. 

At the new home Mrs. Washington attended to 
all her household affairs. Carefully educated her 
children with reference to their usefulness in life. 
These duties she discharged with the utmost con- 
stancy and fidelity, while her husband, interested 
in the welfare of her children, continued to dis- 
charge his duty to them until they no longer 
required his care. 

Mrs. Washington frequently accompanied her 
husband in his journeys, and official visits at Wil- 
liamsburg, which was the scene of her early intro- 
duction into society, and the place of many pleasant 
associations in her later years. 

In 1770, she was called to part with a beloved 
daughter, one she had fondly cherished, and of 
whom it is said, that " she was one of the brightest 
ornaments of Mount Vernon." But in the spirit of 
true resignation to the providence of God, she bore 
this deep affliction with submission, and unshaken 
confidence in Him, " who doeth all things well." 



OF WASHINGTON. 35 

In such scenes of life, as well as in those acts of 
kindness to the suffering and the poor, to whom 
she was frequently a timely blessing-, she de- 
veloped the practical principles of religion. It is 
said that " time wears out the trace of deepest 
sorrow," but it was a long period before the mourn- 
ing spirit of this kind moiher assumed its wonted 
cheerfulness. In the following year she stood at 
the bed side of her eldest son, John Custis, the 
only surviving child, and there with the same calm 
and submissive trust in God, closed his eyes in 
death. Taking to her own home the widowed 
daughter-in-law with her four little children, she 
provided them with all the comforts of life, and 
gave them the unwearied attention of a mother. 

It is known that Mrs. Washington, for the sake 
of being with her husband as much as possible 
during the war, endured the privations of many 
personal comforts, and shared with him extensively 
in the hardships of a campaign life. We have 
inserted in another part of this volume several inci- 
dents connected with this part of her history, and 
which serve to illustrate the admirable character of 
this lady. 

While Washington was chief magistrate of this 
country for eight years, she presided at the man- 
sion with the same ease and simplicity of manners 
which distinguished her former life in the more 
private retirement of home, at Mount Vernon. 

She was fond of domestic life, and derived much 
happiness from the congenial pursuits of that 



36 THE MEMOBY 

pleasant, and quiet retreat. Her own feelings are 
best expressed in a letter, written to Mrs. Warren, 
soon after her arrival at the seat of government, — 
which is as follows : — 

" It is owing to the kindness of our numerous 
friends in all quarters, that my new, and unwished 
for situation, is not indeed a burden to me. When 
I was much younger, I should probably have en- 
joyed the innocent gayeties of life as much as most 
persons of my age, but I had long since placed all 
the prospects of my future worldly happiness in the 
still enjoyments of the fireside at Mount Vernon. 

*' I little thought when the war was finished, 
that any circumstances could possibly happen which 
would call the General into public life again. I 
had anticipated that from that moment we should 
be suffered to grow old together in solitude and 
tranquillity. That was the first and dearest wish of 
my heart. 

" The consciousness of having attempted to do 
all the good in his power, and the pleasure of find- 
ing his fellow citizens so well satisfied with the 
disinterestedness of his conduct, will doubtless be of 
some compensation for the great sacrifices which I 
know he has made. 

" With respect to myself, I sometimes think the 
arrangement is not quite as it ought to have been, 
that I who had much rather be at home, should 
occupy a place, with which a great many younger 
and gayer women would be extremely pleased. I 
do not say this because I feel dissatisfied with my 



OF WASHINGTON". 37 

present station, for every body and every thing con- 
spire to make me as contented as possible in it ; 
yet I have learned too much of the vanity of human 
affairs to expect felicity from the scenes of public 
life." 

The following passage from Mrs. Warren's reply, 
is expressive of the universal feelings of the large 
circle of friends of Mrs. Washington. 

" Your observation may be tiue, that many 
younger and gayer ladies consider your situation 
as enviable ; yet I know not one, who by general 
consent, would be more likely to obtain the suf- 
frages of the sex, even were they to canvass at 
election, for this elevated station, than the lady who 
now holds the first rank in the United States." 

Mrs. Washington passed the first year of the Presi- 
dency of her husband at New York, where the first 
organization of the Federal government occurred in 
April, 1789. The second year was passed in Phil- 
adelphia, which was then the seat of General 
Government. The remaining six years at the 
present National Capitol, which location was se- 
lected by Washington, to whom the duty was 
formally delegated by the people. 

It was here that the wife of Washington received 
all that respect and compliment justly due to her 
character. Here she presided at the table of gath- 
ered guests, with the same accustomed ease which 
gave a charm to the hospitalities of her delightful 
home at Mount Vernon. In conversation she was 
agreeable and instructive. It is said that " foreign 



38 THE MEMORY 

Ambassadors, and strangers, frequently attempted 
to draw her into a discussion of political topics ; but 
it was her invariable practice to waive all discourse 
of this nature." Her political views, however, were 
well understood ; nor did she avoid expressing 
them openly and frankly whenever circumstances 
called for them. In 1780, an address was published 
in the Philadelphia newspapers, entitled, " The 
Sentiments of American Women," which was 
attributed to her, and which was publicly read in 
all the churches in Virginia. 

At first, during the term of Washington's presi- 
dency, there were no established rules for the 
reception of visitors. The consequence was, that 
visitors called at all times of day, from morning till 
night. This constant calling of people subjected 
the President and his family to much inconveni- 
ence. It was accordingly arranged that he should 
receive visitors on Tuesdays only, from three to 
four o'clock ; while Mrs. Washington in like man- 
ner, received visitors on Fridays, from three to five 
o'clock, — the President being always present at her 
levees. They accepted no invitations to dine on the 
Sabbath, and received no company on those days. 
They sacredly regarded the Sabbath, attended 
church regularly in the morning, and spent the 
evening in the circle of the family with such inti- 
mate friends as occasionally called. 

When Washington retired from public adminis- 
tration to the tranquillity of private life, many per- 
sons came to bid them farewell, and to give parting 



OF WASHINGTON. 89 

okens of affection. The foUovving anecdote is 
related of Mrs. Washington : — 

" As the honored chief was presenting to all his 
principal officers some token of regard, on his 
leaving the seat of Government, Mrs. Oliver Wal- 
cott, the wife of one of these gentlemen, and the 
particular friend and correspondent of Miss Custis, 
called to take leave. Mrs. Washington asked if 
she did not wish a memorial of the General ? 
« Yes," replied Mrs. Walcott, " I should like a 
lock of his hair." Mrs. Washington, instantly took 
her scissors, and with a happy smile, cut a large 
lock from his head, and added to it one from her 
own, and presented them to her fair friend." 

Having retired from the responsible and engross- 
ing duties of public life to the venerable mansion at 
Mount Vernon, Mrs. Washington entered with zeal 
into all the improvements proposed by her com- 
panion, for the comfort and beauty of their favorite 
home. 

After spending two years together in the pleasant 
mutual relations of life, Washington was suddenly 
called from earth to his final rest. She who had 
stood by his side in scenes of danger, trial and 
suffering, was now faithful to the last. It is said 
she was not for a moment absent from her hus- 
band's chamber during the brief and severe illness 
which terminated his life. She kneeled by his 
bedside, and bowed her head upon the sacred 
records of Divine promises by which she was sus- 
tained in this hour of deep affliction. And as her be- 



40 THE MEMORY 

loved partner lay on the dying bed calmly waiting the 
change which was rapidly approaching, Mrs. Wash- 
ington derived no small share of consolation in the 
thought, that he who was now to leave her alone, 
had drank at the same " fountain of living waters" 
from which she had derived streams of heavenly 
peace. 

She was well prepared to meet this painful and 
truly afflicting providence with calm submission to 
the will of Him, in whom she ever trusted with 
unshaken faith, and a steadfast heart. 

" It is recorded of this devout Christian," says 
Miss Conkling, in her excellent memoir, " that 
never during her life, whether in prosperity or 
adversity, did she omit that daily self communion, 
and self examination, and those private devotional 
exercises which would best prepare her for the self 
control and self-denial, by which she was for more 
than half a century so eminently distinguished. It 
was her habit to return to her own apartment every 
morning after breakfast, there to devote an hour to 
solitary prayer and meditation." 

Mrs. Washington, now bereft of her earthly com- 
panion, and guide, yielded the remains of the chief 
to the request of the nation, on condition that at 
her own decease, her remains should accompany 
those of her husband to the capitol. And when his 
earthly relics were deposited in the Family Tomb 
at Mount Vernon, she mingled her tears of grief 
with a nation in mourning. 

She was now in her sixty-ninth year, and though 



OF WASIIINGTOX. 41 

deprived of her counselor and friend, yet she gave 
her unwearied attention to the duties and cares of 
life, and discharged all business connected with 
her household affairs, with the same order and dili- 
gence which marked her whole life. Two years 
after the decease of Washington, the " silver chord 
was loosed," — the fading cheek had for a time 
betrayed to her many friends her approaching dis- 
solution. And when passing under a severe illness 
which terminated her long and useful life, a short 
time before she expired, she called to her bed-side 
the various members of her family, and addressed, 
particularly her grandchildren, for whom she felt a 
deep solicitude, in impressive words of advice, and 
then committing them to the care of our heavenly 
Father, she bade them all farewell, and expired ; 
leaving the testimony in her life, as well as in her 
death, of the virtue of " pure and undefiled religion 
before God." Thus died Martha Washington, in 
the seventy-first year of her age, and in the year 
ISOl, May 22d. Her remains were enclosed in a 
leaden coffin, and deposited by the side of those 
of Washington, in the Family Tomb. 

In the camp, she shone with the lustre of the 
true woman. She gave hope and confidence to the 
desponding, sought out the afflicted, honored and 
dignified every station she occupied, and peacefully 
closed a memorable life. 
3 



42 THE MEMORY 



INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES. 

Washington's birthplace. 

The following sketch of Washington's birthplace 
was derived by Mr. Paulding from an aged neigh- 
bor and cotemporary of this great man ; and who 
remembers to have heard that, at the time of his 
birth, he was very large. 

The house in which he was born, stood about 
half a mile from the junction of Pope's Creek with 
the Potomac, and was either burned or pulled down 
long previous to the Revolution. A few scanty 
relics alone remain to mark the spot which will be 
remembered with deep interest. A clump of old 
decayed fig trees, probably coeval wnth the mansion, 
yet exists ; a number of vines, shrubs and flowers, 
still reproduce themselves every year. A stone 
placed there by Mr. George W. Custis, bears this 
simple inscription : — 

" Here on the 22d of February, [0. S.) 1732, 
George Washington was horn.''^ 

The place is connected with interesting associa- 
tions, and noted for its natural beauties. It com- 



OF WASHINGTON. 43 

mands a view of the Maryland shore of the Potomac, 
a majestic river rolling on for many miles towards 
Chesapeake Bay. The house in which he was 
born, is described as a low pitched, single storied 
frame building, with four rooms on the first floor, 
and a large chimney at each end of the outside. 
Such houses are occasionally seen in the old settle- 
ments of Virginia. 



EARLY EDUCATION. 

At the age of ten years Washington was deprived 
of his father, when he was left to the care of his 
mother, who survived a long time, and lived to see 
her favorite child, hailed by a grateful people, as 
their deliverer. She continued to impress those 
principles of religion and virtue on his tender mind, 
which constituted the true basis of a character that 
was maintained through all the scenes of an event- 
ful life. The virtues of truth, justice, and liber- 
ality, were early inculcated both by precepts, by 
examples and illustrations. These principles took 
root in a rich soil, and sprang up in time to a glori- 
ous maturity. His education was limited to those 
subjects, in which alone the sons of gentlemen, of 
moderate fortune were, at that time generally 
instructed. It was confined to useful knowledge, 
but not extended to foreign languages. 



44 THE MEMOEY 

He left school, for the last time, about five years 
after the death of his father. A large portion of 
the youth of the colonies, with any claims to dis- 
tinction, were sent from home to acquire an educa- 
tion. The people of that period were under the 
impression that knowledge and learning could 
never be naturalized in this country. But although 
the means for acquiring knowledge were not so 
extensive in that age, as in the present, yet Wash- 
ington exhibited a genius in his after life, which 
shows that he made the best of his early advan- 
tages. And when called to the service of his 
country, he manifested those original talents which 
render him a model for our youth. He availed 
himself of every opening resource for acquiring 
that knowledge, which prepared him for the per- 
formance of those duties that were so intimately 
connected with the destinies of his country. 



HIS rmST SCHOOLMASTER. 

At an early age George was sent down to West- 
moreland to his half brother Augustus, where he 
attended the school of a Mr. Williams, an excellent 
teacher. Previous to his removal from his native 
place, he had received his first rudiments at a 
school kept by a man of the name of Hobby, a 
tenant of his father, who, it is stated, officiated as 
sexton to the parish of Washington. The same 
authority says that, Hobby lived to see his illustri- 



OF WASHINGTON. 45 

ous pupil riding on the full tide of his glory, and 
was wont to boast that, " he had laid the founda- 
tion of his greatness." Wealthy persons who 
wished a liberal education for their sons, were 
obliged to send them to the mother country ; but 
as a general thing, the planters were satisfied with 
the plain elementary education for their sons. 
Often a man of superior qualifications would settle 
down in Virginia, as a schoolmaster ; but the 
majority of schoolmasters taught nothing more 
than the common branches of an English edu- 
cation. 



ATHLETIC EXERCISES. 

Washington was not born rich. His father's 
property was large, but was divided among several 
children. His own fortune was the result of his 
own exertions. From the time of his leaving 
school in Westmoreland, until old enough to en- 
gage in the active business of life, he resided either 
with his mother at the plantation on the Rappahan- 
nock, or with his half brother, Lawrence Washing- 
ton, at Mount Vernon. Here he spent his leisure 
hours in athletic exercises, — especially in running, 
wrestling and riding, in all of which he greatly 
excelled. Such was his grace and dignity in riding 
horseback, that during his whole life he was 
considered the finest rider in Virginia, where this 
exercise was considered a universal accomplish- 



46 THE MEMORY 

ment. As a boy, he was exceedingly fond of such 
athletic exercises as leaping, wrestling, throwing the 
hammer, and swimming. 



INFLUENCE WITH HIS SCHOOLMATES. 

George Washington maintained a standing 
among his school-fellows which he was destined to 
occupy among men. He acquired among them the 
reputation for telling the truth ; hence in all dis- 
puted points among the school boys, he was called 
upon to decide the case, and when he gave his 
decision, it was generally received with satisfaction. 
He was much beloved and respected by all his 
mates, and it is said, that the scholars parted from 
him with tears. He despised a quarrel, and always 
used his influence to prevent any fighting among 
the boys. It is said that he never received either 
insult or injury from his young associates. It is 
easy to see that the principles which Washington 
cherished in youth, in regard to sincerity and truth, 
were prominent in all his subsequent history. He 
passed through life with a reputation unstained by 
a single imputation of falsehood, deception, or 
crime. 

GEORGE AND THE FAVORITE COLT. 

The following anecdote, derived from an authen- 
tic source, illustrates the principles by which Wash- 



OF WASHINGTON. 47 

ington was influenced, and which he had been 
taught by his mother. 

She had purchased a pair of beautiful gray- 
horses, and was accustomed to turn them to pasture 
in a meadow in front of the house, from whence 
she could see them while sitting at the window. 
At one time she owned a favorite young colt, which 
had never been broken to the saddle, and which no 
one was permitted to ride. One day, while several 
young lads were at the house on a visit, they pro- 
posed after dinner to mount the colt and make the 
circuit of the pasture. They attempted to mount, 
but were defeated. Washington, however, suc- 
ceeded, and gave the favorite such a race, that he 
at length fell under his rider. He immediately 
went and told his mother what he had done, — she 
said to him, " I forgive you George, because you 
have the couraofe to tell the truth." 



MILITARY EXERCISES. 

A certain Adjutant Muse, of the county of West- 
moreland, and who accompanied Lawrence Wash- 
ington in the expedition against Carthagena, 
instructed George in the manual exercise, in which 
he acquired great dexterity. He borrowed of him 
a number of treatises on the art of war, by the aid 
of which he derived much knowledge of the theory 
of military tactics, and became an expert fencer, 
under the tuition of Monsieur Van Braam, who was 



48 THE MEMORY 

afterwards his interpreter in his relations with the 
French on the Ohio. His decided military propen- 
sities brought him into early notice by the govern- 
ment. As the foundation of future action is laid in 
the early habits of youth, we may infer that Wash- 
ington, by a course of mental and moral culture, 
together with the habit of his athletic exercises, was 
preparing himself to accomplish the work, and 
endure the toils and hardships to which he was 
subjected in the Revolutionary War. His military 
propensity early developed itself in the interest 
which he took in forming his school-fellows in 
companies, making them parade like soldiers, 
attack imaginary forts, and fight mimic battles. 



JUVENILE COPY BOOKS. 

A knowledge of Washington's character and 
habits when a boy, is derived from fragments of his 
juvenile copy books, and manuscripts, which have 
been preserved. They are all written in a neat 
and careful hand, with great attention to method 
and arrangement ; and contain exercises in arith- 
metic, practical geometry, especially land survey- 
ing. And the diagrams which are drawn to 
illustrate the geometrical exercises, are distinguished 
for their accuracy and beauty. The first of the 
manuscripts is a folio one, entitled, " forms of 
writing," containing copies of bills of exchange. 



OF WASHINGTON. 49 

bonds, indentures, bills of sale, land warrants, 
leases, deeds, and wills, written out wiih care. 
These forms of writing are followed by quotations 
in verse, more remarkable for the sentiments they 
express, than for their practical merit. These quo- 
tations are followed by " The Rules of civility, and 
decent hehavior iii company, and conversation,^'' 
There are one hundred and ten rules, and they 
appear to have been copied entire out of one book, 
or collected out of several. The following are a 
specimen : — 

Rule 2. In the presence of others, sing not to 
yourself with a humming noise, nor drum with 
your fingers or feet. 

Rule 12. Let your discourse with men of busi- 
ness be short and comprehensive. 

Rule 29. Utter not base and frivolous things 
amongst grave and learned men, nor very difficult 
questions on subjects amongst the ignorant, nor 
things hard to be believed. 

Rule 40. Think before you speak ; pronounce 
not imperfectly, nor bring out your words too 
harshly, but orderly and distinctly. 

Rule 57. Labor to keep alive in your breast 
that little spark of celestial fire called conscience. 

The methodical habits which were so early 
manifested in these juvenile copy books, were 
Washington's characteristics through life. 



50 THE MEMORY 



SURVEYING EXPEDITION. 

At sixteen years of age, Washington was engaged 
by Lord Fairfax in practical surveying, making a 
tour among the Alleghany mountains, which he 
commenced in March, 1748 ; the hardships and 
privations of which, are described in a journal 
written by him at the time. In this manuscript of 
a rough diary are found some letters. The follow- 
ing has reference to his adventures : — 

Dear JRichard, — Yours gave me pleasure, as I 
received it among barbarians, and an uncouth set 
of people. Since you received my letter of October 
last, I have not slept above three or four nights in 
a bed ; but, after walking a great deal all the day, 
I have lain down before the fire upon a little hay, 
straw fodder, or a bear skin, which ever was to be 
had ; with men, wife and children, like dogs and 
cats ; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest 
the fire. The coldness of the weather will not 
allow of my making a long stay, as the lodging is 
rather too cold for the time of year. I have never 
had my clothes off', but have lain and slept in them, 
except the few nights I have been in Frederick- 
town." 

Another letter to the same, containing an allusion 
to early affection, is as follows : — 



OF WASnmGTON. 51 

" Bear Robin ^ — As it is the greatest mark of 
affection and esteem which absent friends can show 
each other to write, and often communicate their 
thoughts, I shall endeavor from time to time to 
acquaint you with my situation, and employments 
in life. And I could wish you would take half the 
pains to send me a letter by any opportunity, as 
you may be well assured of its meeting with a 
welcome reception. My place at present is at 
Lord Fairfax's, where I might, were I disengaged, 
pass my time very pleasantly, as there is a very 
agreeable young lady in the house, Colonel George 
Fairfax's wife's sister. But that only adds fuel to 
the fire, as being often, and unavoidably in her 
company, revives my former passion for your Low- 
land Beauty ;* whereas, were I to live more retired 
from young ladies, I might in some measure alle- 
viate my sorrow, by burying that chaste and trou- 
blesome passion in oblivion ; and I am very well 
assured that this will be the only antidote or 
remedy." 



A MILITARY PURPOSE. 

At the age of fourteen years Washington began 
to form plans for himself. He had actually taken 
preliminary steps towards entering the English 
Navy. A midshipman's warrant was obtained for 

* The name of this troublesome Lowland Beauty, Washing- 
tou's first love, is unknown. 



52 THE MEMORY 

him, but his mother disapproving his design, caused 
him to relinquish his purpose. Mr. Sparks relates 
the details of this incident as follows : — 



A MILITARY PURPOSE ABANDONED. 

" Washington's eldest brother Lawrence had been 
an officer in the late war, and served at the siege 
of Carthagena, and in the West Indies. Being a 
well informed, and accomplished gentleman, he had 
acquired the esteem and confidence of General 
Wentworth, and Admiral Vernon, the commanders 
of the expedition, with whom he afterwards kept 
up a friendly correspondence. Having observed 
the military turn of his young brother, and looking 
upon the British navy as the most direct road to 
distinction in that line, he obtained for George a 
midshipman's warrant, in the year 1746, when he 
was fourteen years old. This step was taken with 
an authority to which nature gave a claim. 

" At this critical juncture, Mr. Jackson, a friend of 
the family, wrote to Lawrence Washington as 
follows : ' I am afraid Mrs. Washington will not 
keep up her first resolution. She seems to dislike 
George's going to sea, and says, several persons 
have told her it was a bad scheme. She offers 
several trifling objections, such as fond unthinking 
mothers habitually suggest ; and I find that one 
word against his going has more weight than ten 
in it.' She persisted in opposing the plan, and it 



OF WASHINGTOX. 53 

was given up. Nor ought that decision to be 
ascribed to obstinacy, or maternal weakness. It 
was her eldest son, whose character and manners 
must already have exhibited a promise, full of 
solace and hope to a widowed mother, on whom 
alone devolved the charge of four young children. 
To see him separated from her at so tender an age, 
exposed to the perils of accident, and the world's 
rough usage, without a parent's voice to counsel, or 
a parent's hand to guide, and to enter on a theatre 
of action, which would forever remove him from her 
presence, was a trial of her fortitude and sense of 
duty, which she could not be expected to hazard 
without reluctance and concern."^ 

Washington must certainly have cherished a 
great regard for his mother, or he would not have 
ordered his baggage to be returned home, which 
was already put on board the vessel, destined to 
convey him to his new vocation, as a midshipman; 
and entirely abandon his cherished purpose to take 
part in the war in which Great Britain was then 
engaged. 

George remained at school, and some other boy 
secured the midshipman's berth. 



In 1745, Washington then a young man of 
twenty-two, was stationed with his regiment at 

* Spark's Washington, Vol. I., p. 10. 



54 THE MEMORY 

Alexandria. At this time an election of public 
officers took place, and the contest between the 
candidates became severe and exciting. Mr. Payne 
and Washington were disputing together on the 
question, when the latter became excited, and said 
something, which so offended Payne, that he 
knocked him down. Instead of flying into a pas- 
sion, and sending him a challenge to fight a duel, 
as was customary in those times, Washington, 
upon mature reflection, finding that he had been 
the aggressor, resolved to ask pardon of Mr. Payne 
the next day. On meeting Mr. Payne the day fol- 
lowing, he extended his hand in a friendly manner, 
and addressed him thus, " Mr. Payne, to err is 
nature, to rectify error is glory. I find I was wrong 
yesterday, but I wish to be right to-day. You 
• have had some satisfaction ; and if you think that 
was sufficient, here's my hand ; let us be friends." 
They were ever afterwards friends to each other. 



OF WASHINGTON. 55 



INCIDENTS IN 
WASHINGTON'S MILITARY LIFE. 

MISSION TO THE FRENCH. 

When France was beginning to develope the 
plan of connecting her extensive dominions in 
America, by uniting Canada with Louisiana, the 
troops of that nation had taken a tract of country- 
claimed by Virginia ; and had commenced a line of 
posts to be extended from the Lakes to the Ohio. 
The attention of the Lieutenant Governor of that 
Province was directed to the supposed encroach- 
ments ; and he deemed it his duty to demand in 
the name of the king, that they should be sus- 
pended. The Envoy would be under the necessity 
of passing through an extensive and almost unex- 
plored wilderness, intersected with rugged moun- 
tains, and many rivers, and inhabited by savages, 
who were either hostile to the English, or of doubt- 
ful attachment. Dangers and fatigues prevented 
others from undertaking the mission. Washington 
engaged in it with alacrity. On receiving his 
commission, he left Williamsburg, and arrived on 
the 14th of November, at Wells Creek, the extreme 
frontier settlement of the English, where guides 
were engaged to conduct him over the Alleghany 



56 THE MEMORY 

mountains. After encountering the impediments, 
occasioned by the snow and high waters, he 
reached the mouth of Turtle Creek, where he was 
informed that the French General was dead, and 
the greater part of the army had retired into winter 
quarters. Pursuing his route, and examining the 
country with a military eye, he selected the place 
where Fort Du Quesne was afterwards erected by 
the French, for his quarters. After spending a few 
days with the Indians in that neighborhood, and 
procuring some of the chiefs to accompany him, he 
ascended the Alleghany river, till he met the com- 
manding officer on the Ohio, to whom he delivered 
the letter of Mr. Dinwiddle, and from whom he 
received an answer, with which he returned to 
Williamsburg. The exertions of Washington on 
this mission, and the judgment which he displayed 
with the Indians, raised him in the public estima- 
tion, and opened to him that public career Avhich 
immortalized his name. 



A NEW COMMISSION. 

When Washington was promoted to the ofHce of 
Lieutenant Colonel, he expressed with unaffected 
modesty his inadequacy to the office which then 
placed him commander of the regiment of three 
hundred men, which was raised for the purpose of 
maintaining the right asserted by the British 
crown. He says in a letter written on the occasion 



OF WASHINGTON. 57 

to Colonel E. Corbin, " The command of the whole 
forces is what I neither look for, expect, or deserve ; 
for I must be impartial enough to confess it is a 
charge too great for my youth and inexperience to 
be entrusted with. Knowing this, I have too sin- 
cere a love for my country, to undertake that which 
may tend to the prejudice of it. But if I could en- 
tertain hopes that you thought me worthy of the 
post, and would favor me so far as to mention it at 
the appointment of officers, I could not but enter- 
tain a true sense of the kindness." The commis- 
sion w^as transmitted to him in a letter by Mr. 
Corbin, as follows : — 

" Dear George^ — I inclose you your comimission, 
God prosper you with it." 



A SKILLFUL MOVEMENT. 

Soon after Washington's arrival with two com- 
panies at the Great Meadows in the Alleghany 
Mountains, he was visited by some friendly Indians, 
who informed him of the French movements, in 
erecting a fort on the south eastern branch of the 
Ohio ; from which place a detachment was then on 
its march towards his camp. Several circum- 
stances showed that this party was approaching 
with hostile views, — one was that the party had 
encamped for the night in a place as if to ensure 
concealment. Washington entertaining no doubt 
of their designs, resolved to anticipate them. The 
4 



58 THE MEMORY 

Indians serving him as guides, he proceeded 
through a dark and rainy night to the French 
encampment, which he completely surrounded. At 
daybreak his troops fired, and rushed upon the 
party which immediately surrendered. One man 
only escaped capture, and only the commanding 
officer, M. Joumonville, was killed, twenty-two 
were taken prisoners. By this skillful act on the 
part of Washington, many lives were saved. This 
event occurred May 28th, 1754. 



LEAVING THE FIELD. 

By the orders of Governor Dinwiddle, injustice 
was carried so far, as to divest the general and 
field officers of the provincial troops, of all ranks, 
when serving with the general and field officers of 
the British. This act was nobly met by Washing- 
ton, in retiring from the station assigned him. He 
resigned his commission of Lieutenant Colonel, 
declaring his willingness to serve his country when 
it did not carry with it the sacrifice of his honor. 
His eldest brother, who had lately died, left him a 
considerable estate on the Potomac, which was 
named, in compliment to the admiral who com- 
manded the fleet engaged in the expedition against 
Carthagena, Mount Vernon. To this spot Wash- 
ington withdrew, resolving to devote his future 
attention to the avocations of private life. The 
resolution was not long maintained. 



OF WASHINGTON. 59 



Washington's delicacy. 

When Washington had closed his career in the 
French and Indian war, and had become a member 
of the house of burgesses, Mr. Robinson was 
directed, by a vote of the house, to return thanks to 
that gentleman, on behalf of the Colony, for the 
distinguished military services which he had ren- 
dered to his country. In obedience to this order, 
Mr. Robinson following his own generous and 
grateful heart, discharged the duty with great dig- 
nity, but with such warmth of coloring, and strength 
of impression, as entirely confounded the young 
hero. He rose to express his acknowledgments for 
the honor, but such was his trepidation and confu- 
sion, that he could not give distinct utterance to his 
words. He blushed, stammered, and trembled for 
a moment, when the speaker relieved him with an 
address, accompanied with a smile, — " Sit down 
Mr. Washington, your modesty is equal to your 
valor, and that surpasses the power of any language 
that I possess." 

OLD JEREMY. 

After the expulsion of the French from the Ohio, 
until the commencement of the troubles preceding 
the Revolution, Washington spent his time in 
rural occupations. He also devoted his morning 
hours to reading and private duties. For this pur- 



60 THE MEMORY 

pose he occupied a private room, where no one was 
permitted to interrupt him. Some curiosity pre- 
vailed among the servants of his house to know 
what could be his employment in that private room. 
They at last succeeded in persuading Old Jeremy, 
a faithful servant of Washington's to contrive some 
plan, by which he might excuse himself, for entering 
the room when his master was there. He at last 
concluded to take his boots into the room. With 
this apology, Jeremy went softly towards the door 
with the boots in hand, and opening the door very 
silently, entered the room; when Washington, who 
was then reading, raised his eyes from his book, 
and getting quietly up from his chair, — " I tell 
you," said Jeremy, " I go out of de room faster 
dan I come in." 



SYMPATHY. 

At twenty-four years of age, when Washington 
was endeavoring to keep back the encroachments of 
the Indians, he addressed the Governor, saying, 
" You see to what unhappy straits the distracted 
inhabitants, and myself are reduced. The suppli- 
cating tears of the women, and moving petitions of 
the men, melt me into such deadly sorrow, that I 
solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could 
offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering 
enemy, provided that would contribute to the 
people's ease." 



OF WASHINGTON. 61 



DISINTERESTEDNESS. 



When the British ascended the Potomac, in 
1781, to destroy the property of the inhabitants, a 
vessel came up to Mount Vernon, and threatened 
the manager of the estate, if refreshments were not 
furnished they would destroy the house. When 
Washington heard of it, he wrote to the manager of 
his affairs at home, saying, " I am very sorry to 
hear of your loss, I am a little sorry to hear of my 
own, but that which gives me most concern is, that 
you should go aboard the enemy's vessel and fur- 
nish them with refreshments. It would have been 
a less painful circumstance to me, to have heard 
that in consequence of your non-compliance with 
their demand, they had burned my house, and laid 
the plantation in ruins." Washington loved his 
country better than his own interests. In a letter 
to the Governor of Virginia, when only twenty-two 
years old, speaking of the increase of pay, he says, 
" For my own part, it is a matter almost indifferent 
whether I serve for full pay or as a generous volun- 
teer. Did my circumstances correspond with my 
inclination, I should not hesitate for a mom.ent to 
prefer the latter, for the motives that led me are pure 
and nohle. In refusing the salary voted by Con- 
gress, he asked ihat it should defray only his 
expenses. 



62 THE MEMORY 



RECALLED INTO SERVICE. 

Washington had not long retired to the delight- 
ful spot at Vernon, before the cannon's roar was 
heard echoing along the Potomac, in the spring of 
1755. An English squadron sailed up the river, 
landed an army at Belhaven, now Alexandria, 
under the command of General Braddock. He 
being informed of Washington's merit, and his 
knowledge of the country which was to be the 
scene of action ; and learning the cause of his retir- 
ing from the service, exclaimed, " he was a lad of 
sense and spirit, and had acted as become a soldier, 
and a man of honor." He immediately wrote him 
a pressing invitation to assume the situation of vol- 
unteer aid-de-camp, which involved no question of 
rank, and which was accepted. In the action of the 
Monongahela, Braddock fell, and was brought off 
the field by Colonel Washington, and Captain 
Stewart of the guards, and his servant. It was the 
opinion of his countrymen that if the advice of 
Washington had been pursued, the great waste of 
life in the battle, in which Braddock fell, would 
have been avoided. This was an early and 
painful event in the history of our country. For 
the want of that intelligence, foresight, and skill, so 
necessary in a General at the head of an army, 
there was a great waste of life in the defence of 
liberty. These qualifications distinguished Wash- 
inMon in the field. 



OF WASHINGTON. 63 



THE TWO BROTHERS. 



Lawrence, the brother of Washington, had a very 
great regard and affection for him. By the earnest 
request of Lawrence, George accompanied him on 
a voyage to Bermuda, for the benefit of his health, 
which was then very delicate. These two brothers 
never met after George departed on the expedition 
in which he was finally captured by the French 
and Indians. Lawrence rejoiced in the fame of 
Washington, predicted his future eminence, and 
when he died, gave him the entire estate of Mount 
Vernon. Lawrence died at Mount Vernon, on the 
26th of July, 1752 ; leaving a wife and infant 
daughter. By his will, his property was bequeathed 
to his daughter, but in case of her death, without 
issue, it was to devolve on Washington, with a 
reservation of a life interest in favor of his wife. 



RESOLUTION AND HARDIHOOD. 

In the journal of Washington, kept by himself, 
we find him often during his expeditions trudging 
through the pathless forests with his watch-coat, 
gun in hand., and pack on his shoulders. At one 
time his horses had become too weak to carry the 
provisions necessary for their support through the 
wilderness. Washington determined to proceed on 
foot to some place where others might be obtained. 



64 THE MEMORY 

" I took," he says, " my necessary papers, pulled 
off my clothes, and tied myself up in a watch-coat. 
Then with gun in hand, and pack on my back, in 
which were my papers and provisions, I sat out 
with Mr. Gist, the 26th of December. The next 
day, after we had passed a place called Murdering 
Town, we fell in with a party of French Indians, 
who had lain in wait for us. One of them fired at 
us, but fortunately missed. We took the fellow 
into custody, and kept him till nine o'clock at night, 
then let him go, and walked the remaining part of 
the night without making any stop. The next day 
we continued traveling until quite dark, and got to 
the river about two miles above Shanopin. The 
river was not frozen except about fifty yards from 
the shore. There was no way of getting over but 
on a raft, which we set about with but one poor 
hatchet, and finished just after sunsetting. We 
launched it, — then went on board, and set off; but 
before we were half over, we were jammed in the 
ice, in such a manner, that we expected every mo- 
ment our raft to sink, and ourselves to perish. In 
trying to stop the raft by a pole, that the ice might 
pass by, it came with such force against the pole, 
that it jerked me into ten feet of water. They 
failed to reach the shore, and were obliged to quit 
the raft, and make for the island near by. It was 
so cold, that Gist had all his fingers, and some of 
his toes frozen. The next morning the water was 
shut up so hard, that we got off from the island on 
the ice, and proceeded to Mr. Frazier's." Here 



OF WASHINGTON. 65 

they met twenty warriors going South, to war. 
The first years of Washington's service in his 
country were marked by great fortitude and hard- 
ness amidst the wild scenes of Indian haunts and 
forest adventures. 



A DIARY. 

It was a custom with Washington for several 
years previous to the Kevolution, to keep a diary of 
the prominent incidents that occurred within his 
observation. For this purpose he used an almanac, 
interleaved with blank paper, and bound in a small 
volume. He made daily entrances, under three 
heads. First. " Where, how, or with whom my 
time is spent/^ Second. " Account of the weather." 
Third. " Remarks and observations.'''' Nearly every 
night he noted the aspect of the heavens, during 
the preceding day. AVhen he left home he carried 
the interleaved almanac in his pocket, with another 
little book, in which he entered daily the amount of 
money paid by him, and the objects for which it 
was paid. This custom he suspended during the 
Revolution, and afterwards renewed it. 



INDIAN SAGACITY. 

When Mr. Gist went over the Allsghanies in 
February, 1751, on a tour of discovery from the 



6Q THE MEMORY 

Ohio Company, an Indian who spake to him in 
good English, said, " that their great man the 
Beaver, and Captain Oppamyluah, (two chiefs of 
the Delawares), wished to know where the Indians' 
land lay, for the French claimed all on one side 
of the Ohio River, and the English all on the 
other." Gist found it hard to answer the question, 
and disposed of it, by saying, " that the Indians 
and the white men were all subjects of the same 
king, and all had equal privilege of possessing the 
land on the conditions prescribed. 

Sachem Gachradodow, in a speech to the com- 
missioners from Virginia, says, " You know well, 
when the white people first came here, they were 
poor, — but now they have our lands, and are rich. 
What little we have had for the land soon goes 
away, but the land lasts forever." Again, — " The 
Great King might send you over to conquer the 
Indians, but it looks to us that God did not approve 
it, if he had, he would not have placed the great 
sea where it is, as the limits between us and you." 



WASHINGTON AND THE INDIAN. 

When Washington made his tour of discovery 
down the Yonghiogany river, he embarked in a 
canoe with Lieutenant West, and his Indian guide. 
The Indian would go no further than the Forks, 
about ten miles, till Washington promised him a 
ruffle shirt, and a watch-coat. This with other 



OF WASHINGTON. 67 

similar demands, led Washington to solicit some of 
the treaty goods, from the Governor, suitable for 
presents to Indians, saying, " that four or five 
hundred pounds worth, would do more good than 
as many thousands given at a treaty." By this 
means of making presents to Indians, intelligence 
was obtained that was of great advantage to the 
Americans. 



GIVING NAMES. 

Queen Allquippa, desired that her son, who was 
an Indian warrior, might be taken into council, as 
he was growing old, and that he might have an 
English name given him. Washington called the 
Indians together, and presented him a medal, re- 
questing the old man to wear it, in remembrance of 
his great father the king of England, — and called 
him by the name of Colonel Fairfax, which name 
signified the first of the council. The Indians were 
very fond of giving names to the whites ; Wash- 
ington they named Connotancarius. The Governor 
of Pennsylvania they called Onas, — of Virginia, 
Assaragaa. The name pertained to the office. 
The giving of names was attended with much cere- 
mony. Colonel William Fairfax was educated in 
England. He entered the army, and was killed at 
the famous siege of Quebec. He was a young man 
of much promise. It is related, that when General 
Wolfe had landed, he saw young Fairfax sitting 



68 THE MEMORY 

near the bank of the river, and touching him on the 
shoulder, said, " Young man, when we come to 
action, remember your name.^^ 



WHISTLING OF BULLETS. 

A gentleman who heard the Rev. Mr. Davies 
relate, that Washington had mentioned, " he 
knew of no music so pleasing as the whistling of 
bullets," being alone with him at Cambridge, in 
conversation, asked him whether it was as he 
had related. The General answered, " If I said 
so, it was when I was young." 



PROVIDENTIAL. 

In the battle at Monongahela, it is supposed that 
of the Americans three hundred were killed, and 
about the same number brought off wounded. 
Halket was killed in the field where many other 
brave officers fell. Washington says, in a letter to 
his brother John A. Washington, " By the all 
powerful dispensations of Providence, I have been 
protected beyond all human probability, or expecta- 
tion, for I had four bullets through my coat, and 
two horses shot under me, yet escaped unhurt, 
although death was leveling my companions on 
every side of me." This confirmed the prediction 
of the old Indian warrior who led the hostile sava- 



OF WASHINGTON. 69 

ges, who often said, — " That man was never to be 
killed by a bullet ; for he had seventeen times had 
a fair shot at him with his rifle, yet could not 
brinof him down." 



AN EXCITING SCENE. 

In the battle of Monongahela, the indiscreet, but 
gallant Braddock fell, while Washington survived, 
though exposed to a thousand marksmen. The 
scene is thus described, — " Braddock encouraged 
his soldiers, and was crying out with his speaking 
trumpet, " Hurrah, boys ! lose the saddle or win 
the horse ! " when a bullet struck him, and he fell 
to the ground, exclaiming, " Ha, boys ! I'm gone ! " 
During this time not a cannon had been fired by 
the British forces. One who stood by Washington 
at this moment, says, " I saw him take hold of a 
brass field piece, as if it had been a stick. He 
looked like a fury ; he tore the sheet lead from the 
touch-hole ; he placed one hand on the muzzle, the 
other on the breech ; he pulled with this, and 
pushed with that, and wheeled it round as if it had 
been nothing. The powder monkey rushed up 
with the fire, and then the cannon began to bark, 
and the Indians came down. That place they call 
Rock Hill, and there they left five hundred men 
dead on the ground." The army suffered a total 
defeat. The survivors retreated across the Monon- 



70 THE MEMORY 

gahela, where they rested, and the General breathed 
his last, leaving Washington to give orders. 



A RARE COMPLIMENT. 

After Braddock's death, and Dunbar's ignomini- 
ous desertion, the Virginia Assembly being then in 
session, sixteen companies were immediately raised 
to meet the dangers to which the province was ex- 
posed, and the command of which was offered to 
Washington, with the rare compliment of permis- 
sion to name his field officers. At this time the 
whole frontier of Virginia, extending three hundred 
and sixty miles, lay exposed to the Indians, whose 
enmity was terrible, constantly making inroads on 
the frontier settlements, and butchering men, wo- 
men and children. At this time the hopes of 
Virginia rested on the virtue and genius of Wash- 
ington. 



THE MOTHER AND THE BABES. 

"One day," says Washington, " as we were 
traversing a part of the frontier, we came upon a 
single log house standing in the centre of a little 
clearing, surrounded by woods on all sides. As 
we approached, we heard the report of a gun. Our 
party crept through the underwood, until we ap- 
proached near enough to see what we had already 



OF WASHINGTON. 71 

foreboded. A smoke was slowly making its way 
through the roof of the house, while at the same 
moment a party of Indians came forth laden with 
plunder, consisting of clothes, furniture, and drip- 
ping scalps. We fired and killed all. On entering 
the hut, we saw a mournful sight. On a bed, in 
one corner of the room lay the body of a young 
woman swimming in blood. On her breast lay two 
little babes, apparently twins, less than a twelve- 
month old, with their heads also cut open. " Never," 
says Washington, " in my after life, did I raise my 
hand against a savage, without calling to mind the 
mother, with her little twins, their heads cleft 
asunder." 



THE PLOUGH BOY. 

While examining the tracks of the Indians to see 
what other murders were committed, " we found a 
little boy ; and a few steps beyond, his father, both 
scalped, and both stone dead. From the prints of 
the feet of the boy, it would seem he had been fol- 
lowing the plough with his father, who, being 
probably shot down, had attempted to escape. But 
the poor boy was pursued, overtaken, and mur- 
dered. The ruin was complete. Women and 
children clung around our knees, beseeching us to 
stay and protect them, and not to leave them to be 
butchered by the savages. A hundred times I 
declare to heaven," says Washington, " I would 



72 THE MEMORY 

have laid down my life with pleasure, even under 
the tomahawk and scalping knife, could I have 
ensured the safety of those suffering- people by the 
sacrifice." 



THE FIRST ENGAGEMENT. 

When Washington was informed by the half 
king Tanacharison that the French were encamped 
within a few miles of him, he placed himself at the 
head of forty men, and set off to an Indian camp, 
six miles distant. It was a gloomy night in the 
latter part of May. The rain came pouring down 
from thick black clouds, drenching every soldier to 
the skin. They marched on through the forests, 
stumbling over logs and rocks, and knocking their 
muskets against the trees as they groped their way 
along. No sound was heard save the pattering 
rain drops on the leaves, or the musket barrel of 
some poor fellow stumbling in the dark ; or the low 
word of command which fell from the lips of their 
young but daring leader. After traveling all night 
in the dark, they arrived at sunrise at the Indian 
camp. There uniting with the friendly savages, 
they marched in Indian file through the forest, tak- 
ing the French by surprise. A short tussle and 
the victory was gained. The commander, with ten 
Frenchmen were killed, and the rest taken prison- 
ers. This was Washington's first engagement, and 
with it commenced the French and Indian war. 



OF WASHINGTON. 73 



THE BATTLE SCENE. 

While on his way as aid-de-camp to Braddock, 
in the expedition against the French, Washington 
was taken sick, and left behind ; but being deter- 
mined if possible to be present at the approaching 
battle, he started on and joined Braddock the even- 
ing before it took place. The morning of that 
eventful day, the British soldiers moved in full 
columns, and in beautiful order along the banks of 
the Monongahela to the sound of martial music. 
The gentle river on one side, and the green forest 
on the other, with nearly two thousand steel bayo- 
nets glittering in the rising sun, gave additional 
brilliancy to the whole scene. As Washington 
gazed on the scene, he was heard to say, " that it 
was the most brilliant spectacle he ever beheld." 
But how soon was the scene changed. He pre- 
dicted that the army would fall into an ambuscade. 
It soon became a scene of disorder and confusion ; 
while whole ranks fell at the discharge of muskets 
and cannon. Braddock v/as in a dilemma, ordered 
his men into platoons, and close columns, according 
to his custom, on the plains of Europe. Washing- 
ton was young, only twenty-three years old, — he 
was obliged to gaze with indignation on this sacri- 
fice of life, without the authority to command a 
single company. 



74 THE MEMORY 



WASHINGTON TAKES COMMAND. 

After Braddock fell, and was borne wounded 
from the field, Washington's tall and commanding 
form was visible, amid the smoke and fire of battle. 
While soldiers were falling on every side of him, 
he spurred his steed over the dead and the dying, 
straining every nerve to stay the reversed tide of 
battle. Soon his horse fell beneath him, — spring- 
ing on the back of another, he pressed on amid the 
broken ranks with sword pointing in this, and that 
direction. A second horse fell beneath him, when 
he leaped to the saddle of the third, while bullets 
fell like hail stones around him. It was here that 
an old Indian chief took deliberate aim at him sev- 
eral times, and bade his warriors do the same ; but 
finding their shots took no effect, they ceased firing, 
believing that he was under the protection of the 
Great Spirit. This same chief came some years 
afterward to pay homage to the man whom he could 
not shoot. 



A DANGEHOUS POSITION. 

At Kipps' Bay, during his retreat to Harlaem 
Heights, Washington. exhibited a recklessness be- 
yond degree. The new levies that were stationed 
to support this point, fled ; and the two brigades 
ordered up fled also. Washington was astonished 



OF WASHINGTON. 75 

at such cowardice ; he endeavored to rally them, 
but finding his efforts fruitless, he rushed in upon 
them with drawn sword, snapping his pistol in 
their faces. Finding this useless, he wheeled, and 
halted alone in front of the enemy, and there, like 
Murat, in front of the Russian battery, faced the 
enemy and the cannon's mouth. One of his 
attendants seing his dangerous position, seized the 
reins of his horse, and turned him off the field. 



HEKOISM. 

One writer who says, " I do not believe that 
Washington knew the sensation of fear," describes 
him in the battles of Monmouth and Princeton, 
thus, — " At Monmouth, amid the thunder of artil- 
lery, and shouts of the victorious pursuers, he 
rallied his broken ranks, and rolled back the tide of 
battle with his mighty arm ; which exhibits both 
the impetuosity of his character, and determined 
bravery, which made him such a fearful antagonist 
in the field. 

At Princeton, stealing by night from the over- 
whelming English army, he came in the morning 
upon three regiments marching out of town, which 
he must break in pieces, or be ruined. In the very 
crisis of battle, seeing his men begin to waver, and 
break, he snatched a standard, and plunging the 
rowels in his steed, spurred midway between the 
contending lines ; and with his manly breast turned 



76 THE MEMORY 

full on the foe, said, in language more eloquent 
than words, Follow yo2tr General.''^ 

At Germantown, finding his troops hard pressed, 
he rode into the vortex of battle, where shot fell 
thick about him. His friends urged him away, 
but in a few moments his tall form was again seen 
enveloped in smoke, and no power could stir him 
from the deadly fire, till his men began to retreat." 



A GLOOMY PEEIOD IN 1776. 

One of the most critical periods of the v^/hole war 
was just before the close of the campaign in 1776. 
A general gloom pervaded the continent. Many 
places were in possession of the enemy, who were 
then moving down on Philadelphia. Cities were 
captured, forts had fallen, Lee was made prisoner, 
and an army of 20,000 was reduced to 4000, and 
they, a remnant, pursued by Cornwallis. At this 
crisis, General Howe issued a proclajnation, giving 
pardon to all who would take the oath of allegiance 
within sixty days. Multitudes of persons of influ- 
ence and wealth accepted the terms, and all seemed 
to be at stake. At this moment Washington stood 
firm, — without a faltering step. He saw the 
gloomy aspect of his country, but amidst it all, he 
saw the dawn of day. When asked, " what he 
would do if Philadelphia should be taken," he re- 
plied, " We will retreat beyond the Susquehanna ; 
and thence if necessary to the Alleghany moun- 
tains." 



OF WASHINGTON. 77 



MARRIAGE AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



ACCIDENTAL MEETING. 

In the close of 1758, Washington resigned his 
commission, bade adieu to his associates in arms, 
and retired to Mount Vernon, and there remained 
until he was again called to the service of his coun- 
try. Virginia had been a scene of blood and deso- 
lation ; but now her sons rested in safety ; her 
valiant soldiers laid aside their arms ; and the 
Indian warhoop was no longer a terror. He was 
now twenty-seven years of age, with a character 
firmly established, — adorned with unfading laurels, 
which he had won by his integrity, patriotism, and 
military skill ; a sage in council ; a hero in battle. 
The next fifteen years he spent in the bosom of 
tranquillity, engaged in rural occupations, and do- 
mestic duties. Soon after his retirement, he mar- 
ried Mrs. Martha Custis, a young, accomplished, 
and beautiful widow, born the same year with him- 
self, and possessing a great fortune. It is related 
that the first meeting of Washington with Mrs. 
Custis was accidental, and occurred at the house of 
Mr. Chamberlayne, who resided on the Pamumkey, 
a branch of York river. At the time, Washington 
was passing to Williamsburg, on important busi- 



78 THE MEMORY 

ness, he met Chamberlayne, who insisted on his 
stopping at his house a short time, and partaking of 
some refreshment. He complied with the request, 
and there saw for the first time, the lady who 
became the partner of his life. The original pic- 
ture of Mrs. Custis,as she appeared to Washington, 
and won his affections, is thus described : — " A 
figure rather below the middle size, with hazel 
eyes, and hair of the same color ; finely rounded 
arms, a beautiful chest, and taper waist; dressed in 
a blue silk robe, of the fashion of the times." 
Washington tarried over night, and the next morn- 
ing departed from his host, leaving his heart 
behind him, and taking another away in exchange. 



THE MARRIAGE, 1759. 

The union of Washington to Mrs. Custis is 
reported to have occurred at the *' White House," 
in January, 1759. Her original name was Dan- 
dridge; she was born in the county of New Kent, 
in the colony of Virginia, in May, 1732 ; she 
descended from a line of ancestors represented by 
Orlando Jones, a Welsh minister. At the age of 
seventeen, in the beauty of youth, she was married 
to Colonel Daniel Parke Custis, the son of Hon. 
John Custis, of Arlington, who resided on the 
banks of the Pamumkey river. He was a man of 
lofty sentiments, and of generous heart; of whom it 
is said, that his bountiful table was often spread. 



OF WASHINGTON. 79 

waiting for the passing traveler. In this marriage, 
Mrs. Custis became the mother of three children ; 
one of whom was taken away before the death of 
Colonel Custis. He died early, before he had 
scarcely attained the prime of manhood ; leav- 
ing the young wife with three children to claim 
her care and affection. Mr. Sparks states, that, 
" Mr. Custis had left large landed estates in 
New Kent County, and forty-five thousand 
pounds sterling in money. One third part of this 
property, she held in her own right ; the other 
two thirds being equally divided between her chil- 
dren." 

The beautiful and gifted widow was the object 
of many admirers, of "manly beauty, intelligence, 
polished manners, and high honor ; " but she was 
to be the wife of the Patriot ; by whose side, in 
prosperity and adversity, she maintained her integ- 
rity, and for whom she exemplified the highest 
affection. 



THE WEDDING NIGHT. 

" All was in elegant and tasteful preparation in 
the White House, for the elaborate and splendid 
celebration of the approaching bridal. Numerous 
relatives and friends, magistrates of the * Old 
Dominion,' stately matrons, and dignified states- 
men ; the young, the beautiful, the brave, were 
assembled in honor of nuptials so signally aus- 



80 THE MEMORY 

picious.^ Much hath the biographert heard of 
that marriage from gray haired domestics, who 
waited at the board where love made the feast, and 
Washington was the guest. And rare was the 
scene at that pahny period of Virginia's festal age, 
for many were gathered at that marriage of the 
good, the great, the gifted, and the gay ; while 
Virginia, with joyous acclamation, hailed in her 
youthful hero a prosperous and happy bridegroom." 
By this marriage, more than one hundred thousand 
dollars was added to Washington's fortune. 



THE NEW HOME. 

As soon as Washington removed to Mount Ver- 
non, he commenced improving the Mansion, and 
tastefully fitting it up for the comfort and conveni- 
ence of his wife. In the papers of Washington, 
collected by Sparks, are found : — 

" Directions for the Busts. — One of Alexander 
the Great; one of Julius Caesar; one of Charles 
XII., of Sweden ; and a fourth of the King of 
Prussia." A few years after Frederick the Great 
sent him a portrait of himself, with these words : 
" From the oldest General in Europe, to the 
greatest General in the World." 

" Two other busts, of Prince Eugene, and the 
Duke of Marlborough, somewhat smaller. 

* Memoir of Martha Washington, 
t Sparks. 



OF WASHINGTON. 81 

" Two Wild Beasts, not to exceed twelve inches 
in height, nor eighteen in length. 

" Sundry small ornaments for chimney pieces." 

This was a period when the conveniences and 
luxuries of life were not so plenty in this country 
as now ; and will account for the importation of 
clothing, implements of agriculture, as well as 
many articles of food, by the order of Washington 
from his agents in England. 

Mrs. Washington enjoyed this new home, and 
entered upon the duties devolving upon her with 
all that interest which becomes a wife. She 
attended to the affairs of her household, and gave 
direction in the education of her children John and 
Martha, and united with her husband in a respect- 
ful attention to friends and guests, and generous 
hospitality to strangers. Their resources were 
ample, and their hearts were truly benevolent. It 
is recorded that when he was at home, a day sel- 
dom passed without the company of friends or 
strangers. 

A sad event in the year 1770, suddenly en- 
shrouded their pleasant home in gloom. Martha, 
their daughter, a bright and cherished jewel, the 
mother's pride and joy, was laid in the urn of 
death, when she had just attained to years of 
maturity. Who can tell the sorrow of the stricken 
heart as she laid this lovely ornament in the grave ? 
"Time ne'er wears out the trace of deep sorrow !" 



82 THE MEMORY 



TESTIMONY OF AFFECTION. 

When Washington left Mount Vernon to meet 
with Congress, at Philadelphia, his wife remained 
at home. During the nine months of their separa- 
tion, she watched with intense interest the delibera- 
tions of the Assembly, and was at last informed 
that the war, " actually begun," demanded his 
services as commander of the army. 

In the letter containing the intelligence, from his 
own pen, he expressed the highest testimony of his 
regard to her welfare. He was then required to 
proceed immediately to Boston, to command the 
army. He writes : — " You may believe me my 
dear Patsy, when I assure you in the most solemn 
manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, 
I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid 
it ; not only from my unwillingness to part with 
you, and the family ; but from the consciousness of 
its being a trust too great for my capacity; and that 
I should enjoy more happiness in one month with 
you at home, than I have the most distant prospect 
of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven 
times seven years. But as it has been a kind des- 
tiny that has thrown me upon this service, I shall 
hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer 
some good purpose. I shall feel no anxiety from 
the toil of the campaign ; my unhappiness will flow 
from the uneasiness of your being left alone." 



OF WASHINGTOIT. 83 



THE BALL GIVEN UP. 

By the solicitation of Washington, when at 
Cambridge, Mrs. Washington left Mount Vernon, 
as some fears were entertained of her safety, if she 
remained there, to rejoin him at Head-Quarters. 
When on her way, she was met at Philadelphia, and 
escorted into the city by Colonel Hancock, and 
other officers, — the Light Infantry of the Second 
Battalion, and the company of Light Horse. A 
ball was in contemplation, to which she was in- 
vited ; but before the time appointed had arrived, 
fears were entertained that the festivities of the 
evening would be interrupted. A meeting of the 
citizens was called, " for the purpose of considering 
the propriety of allowing the ball to be given;" 
when the sentiment v/as expressed, that no such 
entertainment should take place, either then, or 
" in future, while these troublous times continued." 
Mrs. Washington coincided with the sentiment of 
the citizens, and expressed her acknowledgments to 
the Committee, for their attention in securing her 
against any annoyance which might have occurred. 
After a journey of over six hundred miles, Mrs. 
Washington joined her husband at Cambridge the 
11th of December, where she was comfortably 
situated in the deserted house of a wealthy tory. 



84 THE MEMORY 



DOMESTIC LIFE. 

When the British fleet left Boston harbor, Mrs. 
Washington departed for her home, when she 
entered upon the domestic duties of life, and sys- 
tematized her affairs as the exigencies of the times 
demanded. An anecdote is related on her own 
authority, " that she had a great deal of domestic 
cloth made in her house, and that sixteen spinning 
wheels were kept in operation at Mount Vernon." 
On one occasion when conversing with some friends 
upon this and similar topics, she gave the best 
proof of her success in domestic manufactures by 
the exhibition of two of her dresses, which were 
composed of cotton, striped with silk, and entirely 
home made. The silk stripes in the fabric, were 
woven from the ravelings of brown silk stockings, 
and old crimson damask chair covers."^ 



MRS. WASHINGTON AND THE CARPENTERS. 

The following anecdote as related by Mrs. Ellet, 
will show the readiness of Mrs. Washington to 
accommodate herself to the emergencies of the 
times. In 1777, Washington had conducted his 
weary soldiers at Morristown, in New Jersey, for 
vvinter quarters. " There were but two frame 
houses in the settlement, and neither had a finished 

* Memoir of Martha Washington. 



OF WASHINGTON. 85 

upper story. The General was contented with his 
rough dwelling, but wished to prepare for his wife 
a more retired and comfortable apartment. He 
sent for- the young mechanic, and desired him, and 
one of his apprentices to fit up a room in the upper 
story for her accommodation through the winter. 
She herself arrived, before the work commenced. 
" She came," says the Military Carpenter, " into 
the place, — a portly looking agreeable woman of 
forty-five, and said to us, ' Now young men, I care 
for nothing but comfort here ; and should like you 
to fit me up a beaufet on one side of the room, and 
some shelves, and places for hanging clothes on 
the other.' We went to work with all our 
might. Every morning Mrs. Washington came up 
with a glass of spirits for each of us ; and after she 
and the General had dined, we were called down to 
eat at the same table. We worked hard, nailing 
smooth boards over rough and worm eaten planks, 
and stopping the crevices in the walls, made by 
time and hard usage. We studied to do every 
thing to please the lady, and to make some return 
for the kindness of the General. On the fourth 
day when Mrs. Washington came up to see how 
we were getting along, we had finished the work, 
made the shelves, put up the pegs in the wall, built 
the beaufet, and converted the rough garret into a 
comfortable apartment. As she stood looking 
round, I said, ' Madam, we have endeavored to do 
the best we could, I hope we have suited you.' 
She replied, smiling, " I am astonished ! your 



86 THE MEMORY 

work would do honor to an old master, and you are 
mere lads, — I am not only satisfied, but highly 
gratified by what you have done for my comfort.' " 



MRS. WASHINGTON AT MORRISTOWN. 

On one occasion when Mrs. Washington with 
her companions (the officers' wives), remained in 
the camp at Morristown, there were some appre- 
hensions that the enemy were fast approaching. It 
was proposed that the ladies should be sent away 
under a military escort. Washington opposed the 
proposition, saying, " The presence of our wives 
will better encourage us to a brave defence." Dur- 
ing her residence at the camp, she devoted much 
time in attending the sick, ministering to their 
wants, and cheering the desponding hearts of 
v/eary soldiers. And when she departed from the 
camp, where her benevolent and disinterested spirit 
shone with such lustre, the prayers and blessings of 
soldiers followed her path. She reverts to these 
trying scenes of her life, passed amid sorrows and 
sufferings in the camp of the American army, as 
among the most useful and happiest hours of her 
life. Credit will ever be given to this illustrious 
woman for her magnanimity, sacrifice, and sympa- 
thy for the suffering. For when the British soldiers 
were sheltered in cities and populous towns, enjoy- 
ing the advantages of good quarters ; the wife of 
the " American Soldier," a woman of fortune, of 



OF WASHINGTON. 87 

intelligence and beauty, high moral qualities, and 
refined sensibilities, shared with the suffering army 
at Valley Forge, during the cold and bleak win- 
ter of 77. 

While the American army lay in winter quarters 
at Morristown, N. J., it is related that Washington 
on one occasion, told one of his hungry men, to go 
to his table and refresh himself, while he would 
take his gun and perform the duty of a common 
soldier, as a sentinel in his place. By such acts of 
condescension, Washington greatly endeared him- 
self to the American soldiers. 



MRS. WASHINGTON AT HOME. 

An anecdote is related of Mrs. Washington 
which illustrates her easy and graceful accomplish- 
ments at home, in the midst of domestic life. It is 
related by Mrs. Vail, the daughter of Mr. Uzal 
Kuchell :— 

" Among other frequent visitors was Mrs. Troupe, 
the lady of a half-pay Captain in the British Navy. 
She is described as a lady of affable manners, and 
of intelligence, and much esteemed. 

" One day she visited Mrs. Tuttle, and the usual 
compliments were hardly passed, before she said, 
" Well, what do you think, Mrs. T. ? I have b^en 
to see Lady Washington ! " 

•' Have you, indeed ? Then tell me all about 



88 THE MEMORY 

how you found her ladyship, how she appeared, 
and what she said." 

" Well, I wdll honestly tell you," answered Mrs. 
Troupe, " I never was so ashamed in all my life. 

You see Madame , and Madame , and 

Madame Bubb, and myself, thought we would visit 
lady Washington, and as she was said to be so 
grand a lady, we thought we must put on our best 
bibs and bands. So we dressed ourselves in our 
most elegant ruffles, and silks, and were introduced 
to her ladyship. And don't you think, we found 
her knitting, and ivith a specked {check) apron on ! 
She received us very graciously, and easily, but 
after the compliments were over, she resumed her 
knitting. There we were without a stitch of work, 
and sitting in state, but General Washington's lady 
with her own hands was knitting stockings for her- 
self and husband ! 

And this was not all. In the afternoon her lady- 
ship took occasion to say, in a way that we could 
not be offended at, that at this time it was very 
important that American ladies should be patterns 
of industry to their countrywomen, because the sep- 
aration from the mother country will dry up the 
sources whence many of our comforts have been 
derived. We must become independent by our 
determination to do without v/hat we cannot make 
ourselves. Whilst our husbands and brothers are 
examples of patriotism, we must be patterns of 
industry ! " 

According to Mrs. Troupe's story, Mrs. Wash- 



OF WASHINGTON. 89 

ington gave her visitors some excellent advice, and 
meanwhile adding force to her words by her actions, 
and withal in such a way that they could not take 
offence. In this she proved herself more worthy to 
occupy her distinguished position, than she could 
have done by all the graceful and elegant accom- 
plishments which are often found in princesses and 
queens. In the relations she occupied, her knitting- 
work, and her checked apron, were queenly orna- 
ments, and we may be proud to know that such a 
woman as Martha Washington set such an admi- 
rable example to her country-women. 



A CELEBRATION IN THE CAMP. 

In the month of May, 1778, when the soldiers of 
the Revolution were in a state of suffering priva- 
tion, and almost hopeless despair, intelligence 
came to them that France had publicly recognized 
the independence of the American Republic, and 
that her efficient aid would be given to the cause of 
freedom. 

" A day was set apart for a public celebration in 
camp. It began in the morning with religious ser- 
vices, and a discourse to each of the brigades by 
one of its Chaplains. Then followed military 
parades ; marchings and firings of cannon, and 
musketry, according to a plan announced in the 
general orders. The appearance was brilliant, and 
the effect imposing. The whole ceremony was 
6 



90 THE MEMORY 

conducted with perfect regularity, and closed with 
demonstrations of joy." The evacuation of Phila- 
delphia by Sir Henry Clinton, was the signal for 
wearied soldiers to depart from Valley Forge. It 
will be remembered that Mrs. Washington, each 
year of the campaign, made long and tedious jour- 
neys by carriage, to rejoin her husband at winter 
quarters. 



SKETCH OF THE NEWBURG-HOUSE. 

The following extracts from Mrs. Ellet, quoted 
from a manuscript letter, will illustrate the domestic 
arrangements, and generous hospitality of a life in 
the camp, honored by the presence of " lady Wash- 
ington." The letter was written by the Marquis 
de Chastellux : — 

" The Head-Quarters at Newburg, consists of a 
single house, built in the Dutch fashion, and neither 
large nor commodious. The largest room in it, 
which Washington has converted into a dining 
room, has seven doors, and only one window. The 
chimney is against the wall, so that there is in fact 
but one vent for the smoke, and the fire is on the 
room itself. I found the company assembled in a 
small room, which served as a parlor. At nine 
supper was served, and when bed time came, I 
found that the chamber to which the General con- 
ducted me, was the very parlor spoken of, wherein 
he had made them place a camp bed. We assem- 



OF WASHINGTON. 91 

bled at breakfast the next morning at ten, during 
which interval my bed was folded up, and my bed 
chamber became the sitting room for the afternoon. 
The smallness of the house, and the inconvenience 
to which I saw that the General, and Mrs. Wash- 
ington had put themselves to receive me, made me 
apprehensive lest M. Rochambeau might arrive on 
the same day." 

The house here described, is said to be still 
standing entire, at Newburg ; and is seen from the 
steamer's deck on the Hudson, by the passing 
traveler. 



COMMISSION. 

Washington organized a navy in 1775, after his 
arrival at Cambridge. Samuel Tucker, who lived 
in Marblehead, was selected as Captain. An officer 
was dispatched v;ith the commission. Marblehead 
was then a small sea-port, and the arrival of a 
stranger in martial costume, on a steed adorned 
with military trappings, and in great haste, created 
quite an excitement in the village. The people 
gazed at him as he passed, and with eager eyes 
watched him till he rode up and dismounted in a 
yard, where a man was busily chopping wood. He 
was dressed in a tarpaulin hat, brown breeches, 
pea-jacket, and a red bandanna round his neck. 
The officer thought he must have mistaken the 
house, and exclaimed, " I say, fellow, can you tell 



92 THE MEMORY 

me if the honorable Samuel Tucker lives here- 
abouts ? " " Honorable, honorable," says the man ; 
" why he must be one of the family of Salem, for I 
am the only Samuel Tucker there is here." The 
officer took out of his pocket the commission, and 
looked at it, and then at Tucker, saying, " Captain 
Glover told me he knew him, and that he lived in 
this town, and as this house answers the descrip- 
tion, you certainly must be the man. He then 
handed him the sealed letter. Mr. Tucker invited 
the military stranger into his house, and after par- 
taking of some refreshment, he returned to the 
camp. In the presence of some of his friends, Mr. 
Tucker broke the seal, and read to them his com- 
mission. The next morning he was on his way to 
Franklin, and lost no time in making preparations 
to command the navy on the ocean for prizes. One 
of the most fortunate prizes which he took, was a 
transport, loaded with powder, after the evacuation 
of Boston, on the 17th of March, 1776, for which 
he received the thanks of Washington. 



THE THIEF CUKED. 

While residing at Mount Vernon, and when not 
engaged in Colonial affairs in the House of Bur- 
gesses, Washington spent his time on the planta- 
tion. He was fond of shooting, and during the 
hunting season, he was chasing the fox every other 
day. Headley relates the following anecdote of 



OF WASHINGTON. 93 

Washington, in reference to a man trespassing on 
his plantation : — 

" A thieving lawless fellow was accustomed to 
come in his canoe across the Potomac, and landing 
in some sheltered nook, hunt over the grounds of 
Mount Vernon. Washington had frequently re- 
proved him, and warned him to cease, but to no 
purpose. One day hearing a gun in the distance, 
he sprang into his saddle, and rode in the direction 
of the sound. The poacher was on the look out for 
Washington's approach, and ran for the canoe, and 
had just pushed it from the shore, when the latter 
rode up. Raising his gun, he took deliberate aim 
at Washington, expecting to daunt him ; but Wash- 
ington dashed up to the culprit, and seizing his 
canoe dragged it ashore. He then disarmed him, 
and gave him a severe flogging, which effectually 
cured his thieving propensities. 



THE PORTRAIT. 

The Portrait of Washington, taken by Mr. Peale 
just before he entered upon the last service for his 
country, represents him in the vigor of manhood, 
and in the uniform of the provincial troops, — a 
cocked hat, as worn in those times ; a blue coat, 
faced and lined with scarlet ; waistcoat and breeches 
of the same color. In the left hand pocket of the 
coat and waistcoat is seen a paper endorsed " Order 
of March," — both are edged with silver lace, and 



94 THE MEMORY 

the buttons of white metal. A gorget shaped like 
a crescent, and bearing the arms of England, is 
suspended from the neck by a blue ribbon; and 
an embroidered lilac colored crape sash thrown 
over the left shoulder. The right hand is partly 
thrust into the waistcoat, and covered with a thick 
buff buckskin glove ; and the left arm is passed 
behind the back, so as to sustain a fusee ; the bar- 
rel of which projects above the shoulder. This 
dress he wore on the fatal field of Rock Hill.^ 

The elder Mr. Peale painted a portrait of Wash- 
ington, at Mount Vernon, in 1772. While engaged 
in this work, he was one day amusing himself with 
the young members of the family in playing at 
quoits, and other exercises, when Washington 
joined in the play and beat them all. 

* Paulding's Life of Washington, Vol. I. 



OF WASHINGTON. n 95 



ANECDOTES OF THE REVOLUTION, 



ADAMS AND WASHINGTON. 

Washington was nominated in Congress as com- 
mander of the army by Thomas Jefferson. It was 
however, the intention of John Adams to have 
made the nomination. Three days after the ap- 
pointment, Mr. Adams expressed his testimony in 
a letter to Mr. Gerry, viz : — " There is something 
charming to me in the conduct of Washington. A 
gentleman of one of the finest fortunes upon the 
continent, leaving his delicious retirement, his 
family and friends, and hazarding all in the cause 
of his country. His views are noble and disinter- 
ested. He declared when he accepted the mighty 
trust, that he would lay before us the exact account 
of his expenses, and not accept a shilling for pay."* 
A committee of the Congress of Massachusetts, 
waited to receive him at Springfield, on the con- 
fines of th^ colony, and to escort him to the army. 
On his arrival, an address was presented to him, 
breathing the most cordial affection, and testifying 
the most exalted respect. To this address Wash- 
ington gave the following answer : — 

* Life of Gerry, Vol. I., p. 90. 



96 ^ THE MEMORY 

" Gentlemen, — Your kind congratulations on my 
appointment, and arrival, demand my warmest 
acknowledgments, and will be ever retained in 
grateful remembrance. In exchanging the enjoy- 
ments of domestic life for the duties of my present, 
honorable, but arduous situation, I only emulate the 
virtue and public spirit of the whole province of 
Massachusetts, which, with a firmness and patriot- 
ism, without example, has sacrificed all the comforts 
of social and political life, in support of the rights 
of mankind, and the welfare of our common coun- 
try. My highest ambition is to be the happy 
instrument of vindicating these rights, and to see 
this devoted province restored to peace, liberty, and 
safety. Geo. Washington." 



TAXATION. 

The dispute which existed between England and 
her colonies, originated in the claim of the former 
to tax the latter without their consent. As English- 
men, they asserted their rights, and as no native of 
that country could be taxed without the consent of 
a Parliament, they insisted the same rule should be 
extended to them. Among those who plead the 
cause of Americans, was Burke, and Pitt ; the 
latter had been made Earl of Chatham. Pitt nobly 
vindicated the rights of freemen. In addressing 
the House of Lords, on one occasion, he says : — 
" There are three millions of whigs in America, 



OF WASHINGTON. 97 

with arms in their hands. There are twice as 
many in England ; and I hope the whigs of both 
countries will unite, and make a common cause, in 
defence of their common rights." 

His eloquent voice was unheard, and the predic- 
tion of this great statesman was literally fulfilled. 
An act was passed, which shut up the port of 
Boston, and destroyed her trade. The British 
determined to enforce the system of taxation. The 
Americans were aroused: a Congress of all the 
colonies was convened, and a declaration made of 
their rights to the ancient privileges of Englishmen. 
This event gave rise to the battles at Concord, 
Lexington, and Bunker Hill. 



THE FIRST MARTYRS. 

When the British arrived at Lexington, they met 
a small company of American soldiers. Major 
Pitcairn, who headed the British party, advanced 
towards the latter on horseback, and cried out in a 
furious tone, " Disperse you rebels, lay down your 
arms and disperse." His orders not being obeyed, 
he discharged a pistol, and ordered his men to fire. 
They obeyed his orders, — the inhabitants of Lex- 
ington who were spectators of the scene, fled, 
while the soldiers returned the fire. Several per- 
sons were killed on both sides. This matter roused 
the people to resistance ; and the farmers left their 
ploughs in the fields, and their horses in the gears, 



98 THE MEMORY 

and seizing their guns, rushed to the defence of 
their liberty. The Americans pursued the enemy 
as they fled towards Boston, through the woods, 
and over stone walls ; and before they arrived at 
Boston, the number of the slain, wounded, and 
taken prisoners, was 273. Out of the small com- 
pany of Lexington soldiers, seven were killed, and 
ten wounded. In the company w^ere nine by the 
name of Smith, twelve of Harrington, and thirteen 
others. Among these were the first martyrs to 
liberty in the western world. 



JONAS PARKER. 

Among the numerous examples of courage and 
devotion to liberty, in the battle of Lexington, and 
Concord, is that of Jonas Parker. He had been 
heard to say, " that be the consequences what they 
might, and let others do as they pleased, he would 
never run from the enemy. He was as good as his 
word. Having loaded his musket, he placed his 
hat containing his ammunition on the ground be- 
tween his feet, in readiness for a second charge. 
At the second fire he was wounded, and sunk on 
his knees, and in this condition discharged his gun. 
While loading it again, upon his knees, and striv- 
ing in the agonies of death to redeem his pledge, 
he was transfixed by a bayonet ; and thus died on 
the spot where he stood and fell."=^ 

* Address of Edward Everett. 



OF WASHINGTON. 99 



THE FIRST SUKRENDER. 

General Burgoyne had gone on in successful 
triumph, but fortune now turned on the American 
side. The Indians disappointed in their plunders, 
deserted their allies, and departed to their woods. 
After many severe encounters, in which Arnold, 
Morgan, and others, distinguished themselves, a 
scene occurred which rejoiced the hearts of those 
who were struggling for freedom. At the mouth 
of the Saratoga Lake, and close to the side of the 
Hudson, there lies a rich meadow extending up the 
stream a considerable distance. It is called a beau- 
tiful spot. Here the British army centred, and the 
American soldiers flocked from the fields and the 
mountains. Here on this spot, on the morning of 
October 17th, 1777, the British army lay down its 
arms and surrendered to the sons of freedom. It 
was one of the brightest mornings that ever dawned 
upon this new world. It taught republicans to rely 
on themselves, and others to rely on them. Ameri- 
cans had received barbarous treatment at the hand 
of their foes, but on this occasion, when Burgoyne 
surrendered the sword, they displayed a magnan- 
imity of soul, that is recorded of them as being 
truly honorable. The scene on the green meadow 
by the bank of the Hudson, will ever be associated 
with an event which contributed greatly to the 
termination of the war. No one can pass the spot 



100 THE MEMORY 

without pausing to contemplate the victory there 
achieved by the valor of our fathers. 



ARNOLD AND ANDRE. 

General Arnold early enlisted in the cause of 
American freedom. He was a man of great forti- 
tude and enterprise, and had distinguished himself 
in his own country, and in Europe, for his military 
character. After the British had evacuated the 
city of Philadelphia, he was appointed commandant 
in that city. Here he adopted a style of living 
beyond his means, became embarrassed in his pecu- 
niary affairs, and to relieve himself, he adopted 
various schemes of unsuccessful speculation, and 
even had recourse to fraud and peculation. Com- 
plaints were made against him, which brought him 
before a court martial, when he was sentenced to 
be reprimanded. He afterwards obtained a letter 
from Congress to Washington, to take command of 
the important post at West Point, which was 
granted to him without the least suspicion of his 
treasonable purpose. 

Under the disguise of fictitious names, Arnold 
had opened a correspondence with Sir Henry 
Clinton, through Major Andre, Adjutant General 
of the British army, by whom his purpose was 
matured, and measures facilitated for its execution. 
Under a pass for John Anderson, he sailed up the 



OF WASHINGTON. 101 

North Eiver in the Sloop of War Vulture, went on 
shore in the night, and met Arnold without the fortifi- 
cations at West Point. Not able to finish the busi- 
ness before morning-, he was concealed through the 
day, until the next night. In the course of the day it 
was necessary for the Vulture to change her station. 
When night came, the boatmen refused to take An- 
dre on board the sloop. The only way for his return 
to New York was by land. Andre now laid aside his 
uniform, put on a plain coat, mounted a horse, and 
commenced his journey. His passport, signed by 
Arnold, enabled him to pass the American guards ; 
and as he was congratulating himself that he had 
passed all danger, he was met by three militia men, 
who were on duty among the outposts of the hostile 
armies. They seized the bridle of his horse, and 
demanded his business in that place. This sudden 
interruption embarrassed him, and instead of show- 
ing his pass, he asked the men, " where do you 
belong ; " they answered, " below," meaning New 
York. Andre replied, " so do I." Declared him- 
self a British officer, and pressed them for permis- 
sion to pass on his urgent business, in which he 
was employed. They soon discovered that all was 
not right. Andre offered them his purse of gold, 
and a valuable gold watch, if they would permit 
him to pass. But" they were not to be bribed, and 
proceeded to search him, when they found hid in 
his boots, in the hand writing of Arnold, exact 
returns of the state of the forces, and defences of 



102 THE MEMORY 

West Point, with remarks on other matters. The 
names of the soldiers were, — John Paulding, David 
Williams, and Isaac Van Wort. They immedi- 
ately took their prisoner to Lieutenant Jame- 
son, who commanded the troops on the line. To 
each of these men Congress presented a silver 
medal ; on one side of which was a shield, with 
the inscription, " Fidelity,^'' and on the other the 
motto, " Amor Patriae. " 



EXECUTION OF ANDRE. 

After Andre was captured, he still retained his 
pass as John Anderson, and requested permission 
of Colonel Jameson to write to Arnold, and inform 
him that he was detained. His request was 
granted ; and when Arnold received the letter, he 
immediately made his escape on board the Vulture, 
before his arrest arrived at West Point. As soon 
as Andre thought that time had been given for 
Arnold to make his escape, he threw off his dis- 
guise, and made himself known. He wrote a letter 
to Washington, in which he stated his name, and 
office, and his correspondence with Arnold, by 
direction from Henry Clinton, and that against his 
stipulation, he had been brought within the Ameri- 
can post. 

His case was referred by Washington to a Coun- 
cil of fourteen General officers, who gave it as their 
opinion, that Andre was a spy, and that according 



OF WASHINGTON. 103 

to the laws and usages of nations, he ought to suffer 
death. His execution took place the next day. He 
wished to die as a soldier, and not as a criminal. 
With perfect composure, Andre walked to the place 
of execution, between two American soldiers, and 
when his eyes met the instrument of his fate, he 
asked with some emotion, " must I die in this 
manner ? " The reply was, " It is unavoidable." 
" I am reconciled," he answered, " to my fate, but 
not to the mode" — and added, " it will be but a 
momentary pang." With a serene countenance, 
which melted the heart of every spectator, he 
mounted the cart. Being asked if he wished to 
say anything, he replied, " You will witness to 
the world that I die like a brave man." 

The General Officers deeply lamented the neces- 
sity of giving in their opinion that he should be 
hung. And when Washington signed his death 
warrant, he did it with deep anguish of soul. The 
American Officers manifested great sympathy for 
the unfortunate man, and the occasion excited much 
sensibility in the public mind. 

The character of Andre, as given by General 
Hamilton, shows him to be a man of eminent 
qualities, " a peculiar elegance of mind and man- 
ners ; and the advantages of a pleasing person." 
The merits and fate of Andre, gave a dark shade to 
the treachery of Arnold, who became the object of 
utter detestation, Washington says, in a private 
letter to a friend, " Andre has met his fate with 
that fortitude which was to be expected from an 



104 THE MEMORY 

accomplished man, and gallant officer. But I am 
mistaken, if at this time, Arnold is not undergoing 
the torments of a mental hell." 



GENERAL BARON STEUBEN. 

General Steuben never could hear Arnold men- 
tioned, without feelings of indignation. At one 
time, while reviewing a regiment, he heard the 
name of Benedict Arnold called in the muster roll. 
He immediately ordered the private, bearing this 
name, to advance out of the line. He was a good 
looking soldier, and the Baron looked at him for a 
moment, and said, " Change your name, brother 
soldier, you are too respectable to bear the name of 
a traitor." " AVhat name shall I take General ? " 
inquired the young soldier, — " Take any other ; 
mine is at your service." He accepted it, and imme- 
diately had his name enrolled, Frederick William 
Steuben. The General settled upon him in return 
a pension of five dollars a month, and afterwards 
gave him a tract of land. 

Major General Steuben v/as a foreigner, of gen- 
erous sympathies, and whose services were of real 
benefit to this country. As he was unable to speak 
our language, he could not take command, but was 
of great service in the discipline of the troops. He 
possessed a kind heart. Several anecdotes are 
related of him, illustrative of his kindness. 



OF WASniNGTON. 105 

At one time when passing from New York to 
Virginia, he heard an unusual wail in the fore part 
of the vessel. It so affected him that he made 
inquiry into the cause, when he was told that a 
southern gentleman had purchased a little negro 
boy, and he was crying for his parents. Steuben 
immediately looked up the man, and purchased the 
little boy, and carried him back to his home. Soon 
after, he heard the little fellow was out a fishing, 
and fell into the water and was drowned. When 
the Baron heard of it, he manifested much emotion. 

When the army at Newburg disbanded, it was a 
distressing scene to see the officers and men return- 
ing to their homes, unpaid, and destitute of means 
for the support of their families. Steuben was 
much affected at their condition, and though he had 
no home, nor relative in this country, and a 
stranger in a land of poverty ; yet he endeavored to 
cheer up the desponding hearts around him, and 
wipe away the tears of sorrow and grief. 

Seeing Colonel Cochrane standing alone, a pic- 
ture of sorrow, he advanced towards him and said, 
" Cheer up, Colonel, better times will come." " I 
can stand it," replied the brave officer, " but my 
wife, and daughters, are in the garret of that 
wretched tavern, and I have no where to carry 
them; no money to remove them." "Come, 
come," said the Baron, " I will pay my respects to 
your wife, and children, if you please," and imme- 
diately walked to the tavern. It was not long 
before the inmates of that lonely garret were made 
7 



106 THE MExMORY 

happy. He emptied the entire contents of his 
purse on the table ; and as he returned from the 
tavern, he walked towards the wharf, where he met 
with a poor negro soldier, whose wounds were yet 
unhealed, bitterly lamenting that he had not the 
means with which to go to New York. The Baron 
thrust his hand into his pocket, but finding his last 
cent had been left in the garret, he turned to an 
officer, standing by, and borrowed a dollar, which 
he placed in the negro's hand ; then hailing a 
sloop, bound to New York, he set him on board. 
The poor negro hobbled on deck, and turning to 
the Baron with his streaming eyes, exclaimed, 
" God bless you. Master Baron." The old veteran 
brushed a tear from his eye, and turned away from 
the scene. It is said that Steuben was a believer 
in the Christian religion, — a constant attendant on 
religious worship, and a devoted friend to "Wash- 
ington. We have not heard that a monument is 
erected to his memory, though he rests from his 
toils beneath the soil of the land he aided to free. 



MISCONDUCT OF LEE. 

After the bill of pacification had passed respecting 
the paper money. General Howe took his de- 
parture for England, and was succeeded in com- 
mand by Sir Henry Clinton, who prepared to 
evacuate Philadelphia, with the view of bringing 
his force to New York. The design was executed, 



OF WASHINGTON. 107 

and the enemy marched through New Jersey with 
Washington on the rear, eager to strike a blow. 
He had so long been harassed by the necessity of 
perpetually retreating, that the idea of pursuit ani- 
mated him to new exertions, and new vigor. At 
length the lion had turned on his pursuers. Every 
backward step Washington took, was like bending 
the bow the wrong way. It went against the 
grain. But he hoped Clinton would afford him a^ 
opportunity of attacking him in his march through 
New Jersey. His hope was realized. Henry 
Clinton directed his march towards Middletown, 
from whence he intended to embark his army for 
New York, and had now arrived at Monmouth, 
not far distant from the bay of Amboy. Another 
day's march would bring him to the heights of 
Middletown, where he would be unassailable. This 
was the last opportunity that niight present itself, 
and Washington determined to avail himself of it. 

The day came for the attack, — the 28th of June. 
It was a hot day, not a breath of air stirred ; the 
sun shone out without a cloud, — the domestic 
herds had retired to the shade ; and every animal 
sought shelter from the burning heat. The panting 
soldiers could hardly bear up against the burden of 
their arms ; and the horses that drew the artillery 
were in a foam. At the dawn of day, the army of 
the enemy had taken up its line of march towards 
the heights of Middletown, and left the strong 
position at Monmouth. Washington, hearing a 
firing, presumed that Lee was now engaged 



108 THE MEMORY 

assaulting the rear of Clinton's army, according to 
his orders, and came rushing on to second him ; when 
to his surprise, he found that officer in full retreat. 
" In the name of God," said Washington, " Gen- 
eral Lee, what has caused this ill-timed prudence ? " 
Lee gave him an insolent reply, when the hero 
rode on furiously, and called to his men who 
answered by three gallant cheers. He ordered 
them to charge the enemy, when they obeyed 
without a moment's hesitation. The royalists 
attempted to turn his flank, but were manfully 
repulsed. They turned in another direction, and 
met the valiant Greene, vvho drove them back with 
his cannon, and Wayne at the head of his army, — 
the British soon ceased to act on the offensive, and 
took post in their strong-hold. The enemy next 
decamped in the silence of the night, and were 
now so far on their way to the Heights, as to pre- 
vent all hopes of overtaking them. On this occasion 
Washington exposed himself to great danger, but 
seemed by his own heroism to make up for the 
misconduct of Lee.'^ 



WASHINGTON SPRING. 

When Washington went into winter quarters in 
the vicinity of New York, his army erected tents in 
the highlands, and shielded themselves as well as 
they could from the cold and storms of the moun- 

* Spaulding's Life of Washington. 



OF WASHINGTON. 109. 

tains. The winter was severe, but the poor sol- 
diers had become inured to hardships, and they 
were better prepared to endure the inconveniences 
of winter quarters. The remains of these huts are 
still to be seen in the highlands. There is also a 
spring from which Washington and his soldiers 
were accustomed to drink, now bearing his name. 
It gushes forth from the roots of a tree, in a small 
grove of oaks, growing just at the brink of a beau- 
tiful cascade, which falls into a crystal basin be- 
lo\f , of about sixty or seventy feet. It is said, that 
the water is much cooler than that which flows 
from surrounding springs. 



WYOMING. 

There is one event which occurred during the 
war that is remembered with painful feelings. The 
massacre of the inhabitants in the beautiful valley, 
of Wyoming. All who have attempted to sketch a 
picture of the scene, present it as a region of peace 
and happiness. The inhabitants were a quiet, 
peaceable community, and far from being hostile to 
any one. They took no part in war, and were as 
unprepared to enter the battle field, as they were to 
defend themselves. But in the dawn of the morn- 
ing, as they lay in their quiet homes, a band of 
Indian savages, joined with white men, burst upon 
them, and massacred the whole community. They 
spared no age, or sex; burnt their houses, laid 



110 THE MEMORY 

waste their fields, plundered their property, and left 
the little settlement of Wyoming a desolate place. 
The scene was terrible, and will remain on the 
records of history as a stigma upon those who were 
engaged in such awful acts. The sad fate of Wyo- 
ming will be associated with the atrocious scenes 
which were connected with our suffering country- 
men. 



STORMING OF STONY POINT. 

Stony Point was fortified by six hundred men, 
under Colonel Johnson ; and it was one of the 
enemy's strong forts. Whenever there v/as to be 
any hard fighting, Washington selected Wayne, a 
gallant officer, to bear a prominent part in the field 
of action. There were a number of the enemy's 
posts at and about King's Ferry, which it was pur- 
posed by Washington to take in detail, rather than 
to run the risk of a failure by a general system of 
operation. On the night appointed for the attack, 
about twelve hundred of the little band of soldiers 
under Wayne, marched over a narrow causeway, 
which was thrown over the marsh, in perfect silence 
with muskets unloaded and bayonets fixed. They 
soon gained the post of the enemy, after having 
traveled from Sandy Beach, the distance of four- 
teen miles, over hills, and across morasses, along 
the shores of the Hudson. About half past eleven 
o'clock at night, Wayne began to prepare for the 



OF WASHINGTON. Ill 

action. He divided his soldiers into two parties, 
commanded by two Lieutenants, Gibbon and Knox. 
Wayne now moved his men silently forward under 
the restrictions that the " first man who should 
take his gun from his shoulder, or utter a word 
without orders, or attempt to retreat, should be put 
to death by the nearest officer." 

At midnight they came in sight of the fortress, 
along whose ramparts the sentinel was making his 
accustomed rounds. Silently they moved on their 
way, and coming to a marsh, covered by a smooth 
sheet of water, the soldiers paused for a moment at 
the unexpected obstacle. But at the command 
^^ forward ^^^ they plunged in, and passed silently 
along the pallisades. The noise alarmed the senti- 
nels, and the rapid discharge of their muskets 
through the gloom, was followed by lights moving 
swiftly about upon the ramparts, and hurried shouts 
of " To arms I to arms I " and the roll of drums 
roused up the garrison from its dreams of security. 
The next moment the dark rock was one mass of 
flame, as the artillery and musketry opened along 
its sides, shedding a lurid light on the countenances 
of the men below. The ramparts were alive with 
soldiers ; and the grape shot and balls fell in 
showers. Wayne led on one of his parties of one 
hundred and fifty men, headed by twenty forlorn 
men, who worked steadily in front of him, in the 
very blaze of the batteries, clearing away with their 
axes, while one after another dropped dead at his 
feet, until only three out of the twenty stood un- 



112 THE MEMORY 

harmed. Still these three worked on till a pass 
was made through the morass sufficient for the 
columns to pass, when Wayne summoned his sol- 
diei:s to march on, and up the height, when a ball 
struck his head, and he fell backward amid the 
ranks. Instantly, resting on one knee, he ex- 
claimed, " March on ! Carry me into the fort, for I 
will die at the head of my column." His soldiers 
bore him onward, over the living and the dead, 
smiting down the veteran ranks that come before 
them, till they reached the centre of the fort, and 
planted the flag of freedom on its walls. It was 
midnight, and a death-like silence soon followed 
the roar of cannon and guns. Wayne's wound in 
the head was not mortal ; he lived to wear the 
laurels which the nation placed on his brow. A 
gold medal was presented him by Congress, for his 
skill and bravery in taking Stony Point. ^ The 
loss of the enemy was sixty-three killed, and over 
five hundred prisoners taken. 



BATTLE AT GERMANTOWN. 

On the third of October, at seven o'clock in the 
evening, in the midst of a dark and heavy fog, the 
American columns marched rapidly towards Ger- 
mantown. After marching all night, they reached 
the outskirts of the town, when the columns filed 

* Washington and His Generals. — EeadlcTj. 



OF WASHINGTON. 113 

off to their respective stations. Sullivan and 
Wayne, accompanied by Washington in person, 
took the central position of the army; while Arm- 
strong fell on the enemy's left and rear. Greene 
moved down on the right wing. Smallwood, and 
Freeman marched along the old York road, upon 
the right flank. As the day dawned, after a march 
of fourteen miles, drums began to beat, the pickets 
fired their guns in alarm, and fled back to camp. 
The sound of " To arms ! To arms ! " together with 
the flying horsemen, and the roar of cannon, opened 
the battle. Wayne rode gallantly on at the head 
of his column, cheering on his men, amidst dense 
fog, which enveloped the whole field of action. A 
ball struck him in the foot, another grazed his head, 
a third and fourth smote his horse in the head, and 
flank, and he sunk to the earth. Springing to his 
feet, he shouted ^^ forward T'' and pressing on, 
routed the enemy before him in utter confusion. 
Amidst smoke of musketry, mingling in dark 
columns with the fog, the white steed of Washing- 
ton was seen galloping through the gloom, in the 
midst of the heaviest volleys. It is said, that " his 
lofty form towered on the sight, as the cloud of 
smoke opened for a moment around him." A few 
hours of fierce action, and the scene closed, with an 
equal loss on both sides. 

Two days after the battle, the noble roan which 
Wayne supposed was dead on the field, walked 
leisurely into camp, and there recognized his 
master 



114 THE MEMORY 



BATTLE OF COWPENS. 

At the battle of Cowpens, Morgan, with less than 
a thousand men, began to retire, but Tarlton with 
eleven hundred men induced him to take a stand 
at Broad Kiver, where he divided his troops into 
two divisions, while Tarlton formed his columns 
into two lines, with the artillery in the centre, and 
the cavalry on either flank. After a single fire, the 
first American line gave way, and the enemy 
pressed forward upon the next. At this moment 
there was every evidence of a complete victory by 
the British forces. It was a critical moment. But 
Washington, who watched calmly every movement, 
ordered the bugler to sound the charge, and placing 
himself at the head of his columns, ordered them to 
follow. On they went with the hero, at command, 
who galloped upon the infantry, making his way 
through their broken ranks, till the British cavalry 
retreated in confusion, before the fierce onset, and 
the battle was restored. 



HARD FARE. 

Francis Marion was a brave and valuable officer 
under Washington. The following anecdote is 
related of him by an old fellow soldier, many years 
ago:— 

While occupying one of his fastnesses in the 



OF WASHINGTON. 115 

midst of a swamp, a British officer with a flag, 
proposing an exchange of prisoners, was one day 
brought blindfold to his camp. The exploits of 
Marion had made his name now greatly known, 
and the officer felt no Httle curiosity to look at this 
invisible warrior, who was so often felt but never 
seen. On removing the bandage from his eyes, he 
was presented to a man, dressed in a homespun 
coat, that bore evidence of flood and field, and the 
rest of his garments were much the worse for wear. 
" I come," said the officer, " with a message for 
General Marion." " I am he," said Marion ; " and 
these are my soldiers." 

The officer looked around, and saw a parcel of 
rough, half clad men, some roasting sweet potatoes, 
others resting on their dark muskets, and others 
asleep, with logs for their pillows. The business 
being settled, the officer was about to depart, when 
Marion pressed him to stop and dine. Not seeing 
any symptoms of dinner, he rather took the invita- 
tion in jest; but on being urged, curiosity, as Avell 
as hunger, prompted him to accept. The table was 
set, which was a clean piece of pine bark, on the 
ground. On this was placed some sweet potatoes 
raked from the ashes. These constituted Marion's 
breakfasts, dinners and suppers, for a long time, 
while he camped in the swamps of South Carolina. 
The British officer learned in reply to various ques- 
tions, that Marion and his soldiers were serving 
without pay, living without quarters, sometimes 
half clothed, at others, half starved, and expressed 



IIG THE MEMORY 

his pity for their situation. Marion replied, " Pity 
not me, — I am happier than you ; for I am fight- 
ing to free, while you are striving to enslave your 
countrymen. When I am hungry, I comfort myself 
with the hope that I am doing something for my 
fellow creatures ; when I am cold and wet, I warm 
myself with the consciousness that I am suffering 
for my country ; and when the cause in which I 
am engaged, and to which I have pledged my life, 
seems shrouded in gloom and despair, I still recol- 
lect that there is yet virtue in man, and justice in 
his Maker." 

The British soldier made no reply, but returning 
to his commander, said, — " Sir, I have seen an 
American General ; his officers and soldiers serv- 
ing without pay; without shelter; without cloth- 
ing ; without any other food than roots and water, 
— and they are enduring all these for Liberty ! 
What chance have we for subduing a country with 
such men for her defenders ? " He soon after gave 
up his commission, and retired from the service. 



PRIVATIONS IN THE REVOLUTION. 

The following affecting incident is related by 
Mrs. Sigourney, which illustrates the privations 
sustained by women during the Revolution : — 

" A good and hoary headed man, who had passed 
the limits of four-score, once said to me, ' My 
father was in the army during the whole eight 



OF WASHINGTOX. 117 

years of the war; at first, as a common soldier, 
afterwards as an officer. My mother had the sole 
charge of us four little ones. Our house v/as a 
poor one, and far from neighbors. I have a keen 
remembrance of the terrible cold of some of the 
winters. The snow lay so deep and long, that it 
was difficult to cut or draw fuel from the woods, 
and to get our corn to mill, when we had any. My 
mother was the possessor of a coffee mill. In that 
she ground wheat, and made coarse bread, which 
we ate, and were thankful. It was not always that 
we could be allowed as much, even of this, as our 
keen appetites craved. Many was the time that 
we have gone to bed, with only a drink of water 
for our supper, in which a little molasses had been 
mingled. We patiently received it, for we knew 
our mother did as well for us as she could, and 
hoped to have something better in the morning. 
She was never heard to repine ; and young as we 
were, we tried to make her loving spirit and heav- 
enly trust, our example. 

' When my father was permitted to come home, 
his stay was short, and he had not much to leave 
us, for the pay of those who achieved our liberties, 
was irregularly rendered. Yet when he went, my 
mother ever bade him farewell with a cheerful face, 
and not to be anxious about his children, for she 
would watch over them night and day, and God 
would take care of the families of those who went 
forth to defend the righteous cause of their country. 
Sometimes we wondered that she did not mention 



118 THE MEMORY 

ihe cold weather, or our short meals, or her hard 
work, that we little ones might be clothed, and fed, 
and taught. But she would not weaken his hands, 
or sadden his heart ; for she said, " a soldier's lot 
was harder than all." We saw that she never com- 
plained, but always kept in heart a sweet hope, like 
a well of living water. Every night ere we slept, 
and every morning when we arose, we lifted our 
little hands for God's blessing on our absent father, 
and our endangered country.' " 



WOMAN S PATRIOTISM. 

During the long and tedious war, the women of 
the United States exhibited many instances of 
heroic fortitude, and great self-denial, for the sake 
of liberty. The privations which they suffered, 
from fields laid waste, and gardens robbed, — the 
dangers they encountered, and the insults they en- 
dured in their unprotected homes, and while their 
fathers, husbands, and sons were absent on the field 
of battle, can never be described. Often did they 
suffer their houses to be burned over their heads, 
their persons to be insulted, and their lives to hang 
by a single hair, on the ferocious enmity of a 
drunken soldier, rather than tell where their de- 
fenders were hid, or give any information service- 
able to the enemy. They often sacrificed their 
treasures, and the comforts of life to the army. At 
one time the ladies of Philadelphia came forward, 



OF WASHINGTON. 119 

and made large donations of money and effects of 
their industry for the relief of the suffering soldiers. 



DISAFFECTION OF SOLDIERS. 

When the army quartered in New Jersey, and 
among the highlands of the Hudson, in 1781, the 
fortitude and patience of soldiers was very nearly 
exhausted. Short allowance in food, and no pay, 
led many of them to determine no longer to fight 
for their freedom. On the first of January, the 
soldiers of Pennslyvania, to the number of thirteen 
hundred, turned out under arms, with the resolution 
to march to Congress, and demand redress for their 
wrongs, and unless it was promptly granted, de- 
clared they would quit the field, and go to their 
homes. They asked an immediate discharge to all 
who had served three years, payment of all arrear- 
ages in hard money to all who should choose to 
return to duty. They had received promises, but 
now demanded their fulfillment. This move was in 
consequence of severe hardships, and long suffer- 
ing. General Wayne was their commander, and 
when he threatened them with the pistol, they 
cried out, " We love and respect you General, but 
if you fire, you are a dead man. We are not going to 
desert to the enemy. Were he in sight, you would 
see us fight under your orders in defence of our 
country. We love liberty^ but we cannot starved 
In this gloomy time, when deserting soldiers might 



120 THE MEMORY 

well be justiiiecl, on account of their sufferings; 
and when the cause of freedom was at stake, we 
cannot but admire the wisdom, genius and decision 
of Washington, in managing affairs in this time of 
peril and darkness. 



ARMY AT VALLEY FORGE. 

Valley Forge is about six miles above Norris- 
town, in Pennsylvania, on the west side of the 
Schuylkill river, and about twenty miles from Phil- 
adelphia. It is a deep rugged hollow, at the mouth 
of Valley Creek, from which, and from an ancient 
forge established there, it takes its name. On the 
mountain sides of this wild spot, Washington fixed 
the camp of the American Army in 1777-78 ; 
consisting of eleven thousand soldiers. It was in 
the latter part of December, when they stacked 
their arms on the frozen soil, and began to build 
their huts to shelter them from the severe cold. 
With feet bare, cut by the frozen ground, they had 
marched to this place for repose, refreshment and 
clothing, — the remainder of a routed army, ragged 
and hungry. Weary and worn, they lay down on 
the bleak hill side, with but little covering to their 
famishing bodies. They commenced erecting their 
rough log cabins, in which they passed through a 
winter's sufferings unparalleled in the history of the 
whole campaign. It was so cold that they often 
slept sitting up around their fires. Washington 



OF WASinNGTON. 121 

felt deeply for the sufferings of his brave soldiers, 
as his letter to Congress will show, — "//eeZ," he 
said, " for them, and from my soul, I pity those 
miseries, which it is neither in my power to relieve 
or prevent." 

After Congress provided them with clothing, and 
food, Washington was enabled to build a log cabin 
for a dining-room, which his wife in a letter to a 
friend, says, " made our quarters a little more com- 
fortable.^ It was at this season of suffering and 
privation, when the enemy lay only within a day's 
march, that we find, — 



WASHINGTON AT PRAYER. 

While the superior army of British soldiers, well 
disciplined, and well furnished, occupied the dwell- 
ings of the neighboring city, the American army 
was suffering at Valley Forge, from the cold of an 
inclement winter. Our country had been wasted 
by the enemy, and many of the friends of liberty 
had become disheartened, in consequence of the 
gloomy aspect which pervaded the American cause. 
In this hour of darkness and danger, Washington 
repaired to a sequestered spot, where he thought 
himself alone with God, and there, in fervent sup- 
plication, laid the cause of his country before the 

* When Steuben arrived at Valley Forge, he said, " that 
there was not a commander in Europe, whose troops were so 
destitute, and suffering, as ours together, for a single week. 
8 



122 THE MEMORY 

throne of heaven. By this act of pure devotion, he 
sought to connect the cause of liberty with the 
throne of justice, and to ask for wisdom to guide 
his own mind, and to direct his cause in behalf of 
an injured country. His frequent retirement to this 
grove, attracted the curiosity of one who was an 
enemy to the cause he espoused, and he sought to 
defeat his plans. He silently followed Washington 
to the spot, and saw him kneel on the cold ground, 
and solemnly invoke the blessing of God upon his 
country, He returned directly to his party, and 
exclaimed, " Our cause is lost, — Washington is at 
prayer ! " 

Another anecdote is related of Washington of a 
similar character, and as occurring at the same 
time, while the camp was quartered at Valley 
Forge. "A Quaker by the name of Potts, of a re- 
spectable family, had occasion to pass through the 
woods near head-quarters. In his way through the 
grove, he heard the sound of a voice, which ap- 
peared like the voice of one speaking in earnest. 
As he approached the spot with a cautious step, he 
saw in a secluded bower of ancient oaks, Wash- 
ington on his knees in prayer. The Friend con- 
tinued there till the General closed his prayer, and 
arose from his knees ; — then returning to his house, 
called to his wife, " Sarah, my dear Sarah, all's 
well ! all's well ! George Washington will yet pre- 
vail." " What's the matter, Isaac ? " she rephed, 
" thee seems moved." " Well, if I seem moved. 



OF WASHINGTON. 123 

'tis no more than what I really am. I have this 
day seen what I never expected. Thee knows 
what I always thought, that the sword and the gos- 
pel were utterly inconsistent; and that no .man 
could be a soldier and a Christian at the same time ; 
but Washington has this day convinced me of my 
mistake."^ 



FAITH IN GOD. 

Washington was not accustomed to argue points 
of religious faith, but on one occasion, in reply to a 
gentleman who expressed doubts on the subject, he 
expressed himself as follows : — 

" It is impossible to account for the creation of 
the Universe without the agency of a Supreme 
Being. It is impossible to govern the Universe 
without the aid of a Supreme Being. It is impos- 
sible to reason, without arriving at a Supreme 
Being. Religion is as necessary to reason, as 
reason is to religion. The one cannot exist with- 
out the other. A reasoning being would lose his 
reason in attempting to account for the great phe- 
nomena of nature, had he not a Supreme Being to 
refer to ; and well has it been said, ' that if there 
had been no God, mankind would have been obli- 
ged to imagine one.' " 

* Weem's Life of Washington. 



124 THE MEMORY 



ENDURANCE. 

It is said that the battle at Long Island was the 
most unskillful one during the whole war. It was 
fought, however, against the wish of Washington, 
but the responsibility fell on him. But in conduct- 
ing the retreat to Harlaem, he displayed the skill 
which is equalled by no General in War. Here he 
exhibited great endurance. For forty-eight hours 
without closing his eyes, he was in the saddle, 
riding through the ranks, ordering the march, 
superintending every operation, and with collected 
energy cheering on the wearied soldiers of the 
army. For two days and nights he watched every 
movement, in sight of the enemy. After retreating 
to Harlaem Heights, the enemy's ships compelled 
him to retire to White Plains, where, surrounded by 
the whole British force, an army of veteran soldiers, 
and headed by Sir William Howe, he waited the 
attack of the enemy. But Howe seeing the com- 
mander he had to face, left him for other posts not 
so well defended. 



A WISE MOVE. 

About the time when the enlistment of a portion 
of the army was expiring, Yv^'ashington prevailed on 
them to remain a few weeks longer, as he was then 
waiting the approach of the army under Lord Corn- 



OF WASHINGTON. 125 

wallis. He knew that his own forces were feeble, 
compared with the army of Cornwallis. 

The roar of the artillery along the banks of the 
Assampink, closed as the darkness of night set in. 
A disastrous battle to the Americans seemed inev- 
itable the next day. That night Washington 
gazed on the watch-fires of the enemy, and kept his 
own burning, as he thought of the morrow. In the 
early part of the night he ordered his men to dig an 
entrenchment, to deceive the enemy. At twelve 
o'clock, in the darkness of the night, he began a 
noiseless march to Princeton. When the morning 
came, Cornwallis to his surprise, heard the roar of 
cannon at Princeton. Here Washington broke up 
three regiments, and pursued the fugitives before 
him to Kingston, followed by Cornwallis, v^hose 
troops were close upon him. His soldiers had been 
thirty-six hours without sleep, and much of the 
time in battle. He now retired to Morristown for 
winter quarters, where in a short time he saw every 
part of the Jerseys cleared of the enemy excepting 
Brunswick, and Amboy. In three weeks he won 
two victories, and drove the enemy from every post 
they had taken on the Delaware. The British 
Generals were amazed at their defeat, while Europe 
praised the skill and genius of Washington, giving 
him the name of " American Fabiics." 

In this scene it is said that Sir William Erskine 
urged Cornwallis to an immediate attack before the 
night of Washington's retreat to Princeton. " Now 
is the time," said he, " to make sure of Washing- 



126 THE MEMORY 

ton, — our troops are hungry." Said the other, " He 
and his tatterdemalions are in my power. They 
cannot escape to-night. Tomorrow at break of 
day, I will attack them, and the rising sun shall see 
the end of rebellion." " My Lord," replied Sir 
William, " Washington will not be there tomorrow 
at day-break." True enough ; the morning dawned, 
and nothing remained on the south bank of the 
Assampink, but the expiring watch-fires of the night. 
With surprise, the royal General asked, " Where 
can Washington be gone ? " ^ 



THE HESSIANS. 

The Hessians came to this country full of preju- 
dices against Americans, as they were told that 
they could expect no quarters from Americans, so 
ihey gave none. History records many instances 
of cruelty and robbery on their part. When they 
were captured at Princeton, instead of meeting wiih 
revenge, they were treated with kindness. From 
this time they began to see in whose service they 
had been engaged, — their feelings were enlisted in 
the cause of liberty, and they took every opportu- 
nity for deserting their side. But few who came 
over ever returned, and those who survived, re- 
mained with us, and settled down in the enjoyment 
of those blessings which they came to take from us. 

* Pauldinff's Life of Washington. 



OF WASHINGTON. 127 

By this means of kindness, and humanity, Wash- 
ington was enabled to make his enemies to be at 
peace with him. 



WASHINGTON ON THE DELAWARE SHORE. 

Just before the battle of Princeton, and Trenton, 
General Stark, somewhat impatient at the prudent 
and cautious course pursued by Washington, being 
full of energy and action, he bluntly addressed the 
commander thus, — " You have depended a long 
time on spades and pickaxes, but if you wish ever 
to establish the independence of the country, you 
must rely on fire-arms." Washington replied, 
'* Tomorrow we march on Trenton, and I have ap- 
pointed you to command the advance guard of the 
right wing." The next day, the twenty-fifih of 
December, just at dusk, Washington stood with a 
whip in his hand, on the banks of the Delaware. 
His horse, saddled and bridled, stood near him, and 
all was on the move about him, — the rumbling of 
artillery wagons, the sounds of marching men, 
and hasty orders, betokened the speedy prepara- 
tions for battle. The Delaware rolled along, bear- 
ing on its surface the broken ice, and the night 
came on, cold and stormy. As Washington stood 
watching these movements, it is said, " there stole 
over his majestic countenance a look of inexpressi- 
ble solemnity." The crisis had come, — filled with 
some degree of forebodings, yet with firm resolve 



128 THE MEMORY 

he stood there waiting for the time of onset. " As 
he thus stood, wrapped in thought, Wilkinson 
approached him with a letter from Gates. This 
roused him for a moment, and fixing on the officer 
with a firm look, he exclaimed, " What a time is 
this to hand me letters I " The events of that hour, 
and the possible failure in the approaching conflict, 
absorbed his whole soul. It was no time for read- 
ing letters."^ 



MOVEMENT OF A NIGHT. 

Washington stood on the shore of the Delaware 
through the cold night of December, with a calm 
but resolute purpose, watching his distracted army, 
as they crossed the icy stream, and urging on his 
wearied soldiers, till four o'clock in the morning. 
Knox stood on the opposite shore, and by his sten- 
torian voice, indicated the point where the army 
was to land in the boats, which conveyed them 
across the river. The plan was to enter Trenton at 
difl^erent points. Sullivan headed one column 
along the river road, while Washington and Greene 
led the other in the road a short distance from the 
shore. It was dark, and a storm of snow drove full 
in their faces, soaking the soldiers' clothes, and ren- 
dering their guns unfit for use. Sullivan felt dis- 
heartened, and dispatched an aid to Washington 

* Washington and His Generals. — Eeadley. 



OF WASHINGTON. 129 

with the intelligence of his despondency. Wash- 
ington returned the reply, " Advance and charge ! " 
Captain Forest rode by the side of Washington, 
when on seeing a countryman chopping wood, in 
front of his door, jUst as daylight dawned, asked, 
'' where the Hessian picket lay ? " He replied, " I 
do not know." " You may tell," said Forest, " for 
it is Washington who addresses you." The man 
dropped his axe, and lifting his hands, exclaimed, 
" God bless you, Sir,'' and then pointed to the 
house near by a tree where the picket lay. 



TRENTON TAKEN. 

As the army advanced towards Trenton, Wash- 
ington rode in front, where the first volley of shot 
must fall. His officers saw his dangerous position, 
and entreated him to fall back and take a position 
of greater security. But he took no notice of their 
entreaties, but advanced sternly on amidst the 
storm, ordering the guns to be unlimbered, and the 
whole column to advance. At this moment Sulli- 
van's division charged on the enemy, and Stark 
had entered the streets and aroused the Hessians 
from their morning dreams. Washington's form 
was enveloped in smoke, and the flying horsemen 
rushed through the streets in every direction. The 
enemy just then wheeled two cannon into the 
street, in breast of the column Washington was 
advancing. They fired, and young Monroe, after- 



130 THE MEMORY 

wards President of the United States, and a Cap- 
tain Washington, took the pieces charged to the 
muzzle, and when the smoke arose in the air, these 
two gallant officers were both seen reclining in the 
arms of their soldieie, though not mortally wounded. 
Washington had just ordered his column to ad- 
vance more rapidly, when one of his officers cried 
out, " their flags are struck." Looking up in sur- 
prise, he exclaimed, " Struck ! so they are ! " and 
spurring his charger, rushed on, and grasping the 
hand of one of his officers, exclaimed, " This is a 
glorious day for our country J^ He re-crossed the 
Delaware the same day, and returned to his camp 
with the army, having taken a thousand prisoners, 
six brass field pieces, and a thousand stand of arms. 



LOVE OP LIBERTY. 

When the Stamp Act began to be enforced, 
Washington took strong and decided ground with 
the colonies against the mother country, and was 
found among the first to lift his voice in defence of 
liberty. Guarding it with a jealous eye, he was 
ever ready to hazard his own life in its behalf. He 
deprecated the use of arms, and regarded steel 
weapons as the last means to be employed in the 
cause of liberty ; yet when freedom was at stake, 
he says, " no man should scruple, or hesitate a 
moment to use arms in defence of so valuable a 
blessing." 



OF WASHINGTON. 131 

In 1774, the House of Burgesses appointed a day 
of fasting and prayer, in sympathy with the people 
of Boston, whose port had been closed by an Act of 
Parliament. We find in Washington's private 
diary, " I went to church and fasted all dayJ*^ 
This shows how the great and precious boon of 
freedom was cherished in the heart of Washington. 
When he was elected a delegate to the first Con- 
gress, his calm but resolute voice w^as heard in 
favor of freedom at all hazards. No one can read 
the history of his later years, without perceiving 
his preference for the song of the husbandman 
amid the blessings of peace and plenty, to the roll 
of the drum, and the roar of cannon in the field of 
battle. 



THE LIBERTY TREE. 

Between the years 1760, and 1776, were en- 
acted important scenes which preceded and attended 
the first steps of the Revolution. Boston was the 
principal place of these events. It appears from 
history, that the appointment of Andrew Oliver, as 
distributor of Stamps for Massachusetts, after the 
passage of the Stamp Act, in 1765, was the cause 
of the first popular outbreak of feeling, in reference 
to liberty. An effigy of Mr. Oliver, and a boot, 
(the emblem of Lord Bute), with Satan peeping 
out of it, besides other satirical emblems, were 
found in the morning, hanging on a large elm tree 



132 THE MEMORY 

at the head of Essex street. The SherifT was 
ordered by the Lieutenant Governor to remove the 
effigy, but his officers reported that it could not be 
done without peril of their lives. Much excitement 
prevailed, and a building intended, as was supposed, 
for a Stamp Office, was entirely demolished. The 
next day the houses of Mr. Storey, and Hallowell 
were attacked, and injured. This gave origin to 
the " Liberty Tree." 

The house of the Lieutenant Governor was 
attacked, and much property destroyed ; and many 
valuable articles were carried away, among which 
were £1,000 sterling in specie, besides a large 
quantity of family plate. The next day the streets 
were found scattered with money, plate, gold rings, 
&c. A town meeting was held the next day, when 
the citizens expressed their indignity at these pro- 
ceedings, and voted for such measures as would 
tend to suppress all such violent acts in future. 

In the early part of December, Mr. Oliver was 
summoned to appear under the Liberty Tree, and 
in the presence of the principal inhabitants of the 
town, make a public resignation of his office as 
Stamp distributor. The Liberty Tree was a sort of 
idol with Bostonians, and a great ornament to the 
street. In the winter of 1775-6, it was cut down 
by the British soldiers, while they had possession 
of the city, and converted to fuel. 

When information of the repeal of the Stamp 
Act reached Boston, on the 16th of May, the 
inhabitants were as active in the demonstrations of 



OF WASHINGTON. 133 

their joy, as they had been before of their resent- 
ment. The bells were rung, and cannon fired 
under the Liberty Tree, and in other parts of the 
town. The 19th of March was fixed for a day of 
general rejoicing. The bell of Dr. Byles' church, 
nearest to the Liberty Tree, was rung at one o'clock 
in the morning, and soon answered by other bells of 
the city. The Liberty Tree was decorated with 
flags, and colors were displayed from the houses. 
The whole town was illuminated, and sermons 
preached from several pulpits on succeeding days.*' 



COUNT DONOP. 

Count Donop was mortally wounded, and taken 
prisoner in the encounter which took place at Ked 
Bank, near Philadelphia. The Americans treated 
him with the kindest attentions, and Washington 
sent him a note, expressing his sympathy. This 
expression of kindness on the part of the Americans, 
completely overcome the dying soldier, and brought 
tears in his eyes. He said to Washington's mes- 
senger, " Tell him that I never expect to rise from 
my bed, but if I should, my first act shall be to 
thank him in person." He died regretting the 
service in which he had embarked against a people 
so humane. 

* Sketches of Boston. 



13-1: THE MEMORY 



DEATH OP COLONEL CUSTIS. 

Colonel Custis had associated himself with Wash- 
ington, as one of the Aids-de-Camp, and had en- 
deared himself to him in his official relations 
through the whole of the American Revolution, 
During the siege of Yorktown, and while engaged 
in his official duties, he was seized with the fever 
then raging in the British camp. After the sur- 
render of Lord Cornwallis, he was removed from 
the field, and put under the care of Dr. Craik, 
chief of the American Medical Staff, at Elthan. 
Mrs. Washington was then at Mount Vernon, and 
Colonel Custis was her only remaining child. As 
soon as the news reached her of his alarming con- 
dition, she hastened to his bed side. Washington 
was affectionately attached to him, and hearing of 
his increasing sickness, and danger, privately left 
the camp before Yorktown, while it rang with 
shouts of victory ; and attended by a single officer, 
rode with all speed to Elthan. On his arrival he 
was met by Dr. Craik, when he immediately 
inquired if there was any reason to hope for the 
Colonel's recovery. At that moment friends were 
around the bed of the expiring son. On being 
informed that he was nearly gone, the General 
retired to a solitary apartment, threw himself upon 
a couch, almost overcome with sorrow of heart. 
When death had concluded the scene, Washington 
and his now childless wife, mingled their tears 



OF WASHINGTON. 135 

together for a long time, when the duties of his 
office called him to the camp, and he left the weep- 
ing mother alone with her God. 



NELSON AND HIS HOUSE. 

Nelson who commanded the Virginia militia was 
a gallant officer, and bore his part with a brave 
hand in the defence of Liberty. He was a bright 
example of disinterested patriotism. He owned a 
very fine house in York, which was occupied by 
the enemy. Seeing, that from a delicate considera- 
tion for his interests, the American artillerists 
avoided directing their pieces to that house where 
the enemy were, he proclaimed a reward of a 
guinea for every shot that should be lodged in his 
house. The Americans soon riddled it with balls, 
when the British soldiers finding it too warm for 
their quarters, abandoned it. 



MRS. CALDWELL'S DEATH. 

The following circumstances deserve a notice, 
because at the time it made a deep impression. It 
was one of those melancholy events which is not 
authorized in war. During a skirmish at Spring- 
field, the settlement at Connecticut Farms was 
reduced to ashes. Mrs. Caldwell, the wife of the 
clergyman of the village, had been induced to 



136 THE MEMORY 

remain in her house under the persuasion that her 
presence might protect it from pillage, and that her 
person could not be endangered, as Col. Dayton, 
who commanded the militia, determined not to stop 
in the settlement. While sitting in the midst of 
her children, with a babe in her arms, a soldier dis- 
charged his musket at her. She received the ball 
in her bosom and instantly expired. 



WASHINGTON IN DANGER. 

Washington was often in great danger when in 
the field of action. At one time, during a sharp 
conflict with the British, Washington ordered his 
men not to fire a pistol, but to charge the cavalry 
with drawn swords. Followed by Col. Howard, 
he pressed on until a great part of the infantry had 
surrendered. In this action an anecdote of the Gen- 
eral is related by Marshall, as follows. " In the 
eagerness of pursuit, Washington advanced near 
thirty yards in front of his regiment. Three British 
officers observing this, wheeled about and made a 
charge upon him. The officer on the right aimed 
a blow to cut him down, just as an American soldier 
came up, who intercepted the blow by disabling his 
sword arm. The ofiicer on the left was about to 
make a stroke at him at the sam.e instant, when a 
waiter, too small to wield a sword, saved him by 
v/ounding the ofiicer with a ball from a pistol. At 
this moment the officer in the centre, vrho was be- 



OF WASHINGTON. 137 

lieved to be Tarlton, made a thrust at him which 
he parried : upon this the officer retreated a few 
paces, and then discharged a pistol at him, which 
only wpunded his horse." 



THE PINE CANNON. 

A party of the British soldiers being quartered at 
Rugley's Farm, within thirteen miles of Camden, 
Col. Washington found them posted in a logged 
barn, strongly secured by abattis and inaccessible 
to cavalry. Force being of no avail he resorted to 
the following stratagem. Having painted the trunk 
of a pine tree and mounted it on a carriage, so as 
to resemble a field-piece, he paraded it in front of 
the enemy and demanded a surrender. The whole 
party, consisting of one hundred and twelve men, 
with Col. Rugley at their head, alarmed at the 
prospect of a cannonade, surrendered themselves 
prisoners of war.^ 



AN INCIDENT AT GUILFORD. 

After passing through the guards into the cleared 
ground, Washington, who led the way, perceived 
an officer, surrounded by several persons, who ap- 

* Marshall's Life of Washington. 
9 



138 THE MEMORY 

peared to be aids-de-camp. Believing him to be 
Lord Cornvvallis, he rushed forward in hope of 
making him prisoner, but was arrested by an acci- 
dent. His cap fell from his head, and, as he leaped 
to the ground to recover it, the officer leading the 
columns was shot through the body, and rendered 
incapable of managing his horse. The animal 
wheeled round with his rider and galloped off the 
field. He was followed by all the cavalry who 
supposed this movement had been directed. 



SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 

Cornwallis had taken his position at York, a 
small town at the northern verge of the peninsula, 
between York and James River, about eight miles 
wide. It occupied the summit of a high bank on 
the south side of the noble stream, the scene of 
" daring deeds." Here the British chief stationed 
his army with the most sanguine hopes of success, 
until seeing himself besieged with a superior army, 
new batteries raised against him on all sides, and 
his own defences falling one after another, he 
ceased all further operations. At this time Corn- 
wallis' army consisted of 7000 men, with an im- 
mense train of artillery — upwards of 160 pieces of 
cannon. The very spot, where the British army 
yielded the contest, and laid down their arms, is 
still pointed out. It is said that the scene itself 
was grand and affecting. The subdued soldiers 



OF WASHINGTON. 139 

marched to the spot in silence, and were received 
in the same manner by the Americans and French, 
who lined the path through which they passed. 
Not a word was uttered, nor a smile seen at the 
time, indicative of victory ; all seemed struck with 
the contrast so often presented in the changes of 
position in life. Cornwallis was the boasted con- 
queror of the South — the Hero of Britain. The 
time had come for him to deliver up his sword to 
the Congress of America. All eyes were looking 
for him to perform the office, but he came not. 
General O'Hara was his substitute. The surrender 
was made on the 19th of October, 1781. And 
memorable will the plain of York be in the history 
of our country, where the second British Army laid 
down its arms, and where the contest for liberty 
was finally closed. 



A JOYOUS SCENE. 

The surrender of Cornwallis was followed by 
demonstrations of joy and thanksgiving. All offi- 
cers and soldiers under arrest were released and 
pardoned, and, by the direction of Washington, the 
soldiers bent the knee, and with united voice offered 
thanks to God for victory — for winning the crown 
of Freedom for which they had patiently suffered. 
The scene is described by Paulding as follows. 

" At the dead of the night, a watchman in the 
streets of Philadelphia was heard to cry out, ' Fast 



140 THE MEMORY 

twelve o'clock, and a pleasant morning — Cornwallis 
is taken." All but the dead, resting in their last 
sleep, awoke at this glorious annunciation. The 
city became alive at midnight; the candles were 
lighted, and persons might be seen flitting past the 
windows, or pushing them up to hear the sound re- 
peated, lest it should have been nothing but a 
dream. The citizens ran through the streets to 
inquire into the truth — they shook hands, they em- 
braced each other, and they wept for joy. None 
slept again that night ; and the dawn of the morn- 
ing, which brought new confirmations of the happy 
tidings, shone on one of the most exulting cities 
that ever basked in the sunshine of joy. The hour 
of freedom was now come, and the souls of the peo- 
ple expanded with joy. For years they had stared 
misery in the face and suffered in its iron grasp. 
They had reaped many harvests of bitterness, and 
now they expected to reap those of peace and plenty. 
There was but one single united voice throughout 
the whole land, and that shouted the name of Wash- 
ington, the Deliverer of his country." 

The following is from an English paper published 
in 1777. 

" Several gentlemen of Nottingham received let- 
ters by the coach, with an account of a total defeat 
of General Washington's army in America, obtained 
by his Majesty's forces under General Sir William 
Howe. Soon after, this news was conveyed to 
several gentlemen who were regaling themselves at 



OF WASHINGTON. 141 

different public houses in the town, and, in conse- 
quence of the above interesting and important intel- 
ligence arriving, the bells began to ring about one 
o'clock in the morning, and continued all Tuesday 
and the day following, with but very little intermis- 
sion. At intervals several young men assembled 
themselves together on this joyful occasion, each 
armed with a gun, and paraded the streets, fre- 
quently discharging the same, which was immedi- 
ately re-echoed with uncommon shouts of applause. 
The populace procured an ass on which they erected 
a figure representing General Washington, dressed 
in a military character, which was repeatedly fired, 
and after that committed to the flames."^ 



Washington's influence. 

After the excitement of the war was over, the 
soldiers of the revolution began to think of them- 
selves. They felt that Congress had neglected 
their claims, and nothing as yet had been done to 
allay their fears or supply their wants. At this 
time the troops were assembled at Newburg, when 
a paper, without name, was circulated among them, 
inviting a meeting of the General and the field 
officers for the purpose of consulting measures, by 
which they might procure redress for their griev- 
ances. The paper contained an address well calcu- 

* Nottingham Date Book, No. 8. 



142 THE MEMORY 

lated to do mischief. It plead the claims of the 
soldiers, the neglect of Congress, and set forth the 
condition of the officers and soldiers, if they per- 
mitted them to be sent home as they were. The 
whole address was an eloquent production and was 
well designed to bring irritated soldiers to act. A 
civil war was apparently at hand ; and it was a 
period when the patriotism and integrity of Wash- 
ington was fairly and severely tested. It was 
anticipated that he would give his influence in favor 
of the writer, and even become the Leader of the 
troops in another war. He saw and felt his posi- 
tion — the demands of the army were just, and the 
sentiment of the people was in their favor. They 
had nobly won the prize of freedom for their coun- 
try, and they only asked what justice claimed. 

In meeting this crisis of the army, Washington 
displayed his wisdom. He issued a general order 
for a meeting of the officers, and soldiers, which 
was to take place previous to the one designated in 
the anonymous address. And from the time of 
issuing the order to the day of the meeting, he was 
employed in soothing the feelings of the impatient 
soldiers, and in preparing the way for diflferent 
measures. He met individual officers alone, and 
never was the influence of character and example 
more nobly exemplified than on these occasions. It 
is said that " the oflicers came out of his room with 
traces of tears on their cheeks, and others seemed 
bowed down by the weight of irresistible convic- 
tion." Washington's influence was felt, — his ad- 



OP WASHINGTON. 143 

vice was a word in season ; and in no act of his 
career, did he confer a higher favor on his country, 
or exhibit a higher proof of virtuous self-denial. 



ELECTED PRESIDENT. 

On the 4th of March, 1789, Washington was 
chosen President of the United States, but in con- 
sequence of some delay he was not officially noti- 
fied until the 14th of April. In a letter to General 
Knox, he expressed his feelings in reference to the 
delay as follows : — 

" As to myself, the delay may be compared to a 
reprieve ; for in confidence I tell you, (with the 
world, it would obtain little credit) that my move- 
ments toward the chair of Government will be 
accompanied by feelings, not unlike those of a cul- 
prit going to the place of execution, — so unwilling 
am I in the evening of a life, consumed in public 
business, to quit my peaceful abode for an ocean of 
difficulties, without the competency of political 
skill and inclination, which is necessary to manage 
the helm. I am sensible that I am embarking with 
the voice of the people, and a good name of my 
own, on this voyage, and what returns will be 
made for them. Heaven alone can foretell. Integrity 
and firmness are all I can promise, — these, be the 
voyage long or short, shall never forsake me, 
though I may be deserted by all men ; for of the 



144 THE MEMORY 

consolations to be derived from these, the world 
cannot deprive me." 

When Washington," after his election, passed 
from Mount Vernon to New York, where Congress 
was in session, his pathway was thronged with the 
people, ever ready to express their gratitude for his 
devoted services to their country. Men women and 
children lined the roads, and flocked to the win- 
dows to see him pass. The women wept for joy, 
and the children cried out, " God save Washing- 
ton." In fact, one continued shout followed him 
from Mount Vernon to the mouth of the Hudson. 



RECEPTION AT TRENTON. 

The reception of George Washington at Trenton, 
is a matter of history, and will never be forgotten 
by the people. It was planned by the daughters of 
freedom, — by those who knew well how to appre- 
ciate the blessings of Liberty. When the hopes of 
the people were nearly gone, Washington per- 
formed one of those prompt and daring feats which, 
for a time, rejoiced the hearts of the matrons of 
Trenton, and revived the drooping spirits of the 
people. When he arrived at the bridge over the 
Assumpink, which flows near the city, and on 
whose banks he lay encamped the night previous 
to his march on Princeton, his eye saw the beauti- 
ful arch of evergreens and flowers, gracefully pre- 



OF WASHINGTON. 145 

pared by the fair maidens of Trenton, bearing this 
inscription : — 

December 26, 1776. 
: " The Hero, who defended the Mothers, 

WILL protect the DAUGHTERS." 

At the end of the bridge were collected hundreds 
of little girls dressed in white, with beautiful 
wreaths around their heads, and with baskets of 
flowers in their hands. Beyond these stood the 
grown up daughters, and in the rear, the fathers 
and mothers of '76. As the Hero approached them, 
hundreds of voices sent up their song of joyful 
welcome, and as the chorus, — 

" Strew your hero's way with flowers," 

died away, they scattered his path with flowers. 
Washington was a firm man, but now his mouth 
was observed to quiver ; and that eye which had 
looked on storms, and witnessed scenes of suffering 
unmoved, now glistened with tears ; and as he 
drew his hat from his head, the trembling hand 
refused to do its oflice. The chieftain moved on- 
ward through the ranks, overcome by the grateful 
emotions of the people, till coming to Elizabeth- 
town Point, where an elegant barge, manned by 
thirteen pilots, was waiting to receive him. As he 
entered the barge, the shores echoed with pealing 



146 THE MEMORY 

trumpets and martial music, as the boat parted from 
the shore, and moved away under a splendid 
escort. 



RECEPTION AT NEW YORK. 

As the boat manned with pilots passed over the 
waters of New York Bay, a gay scene was pre- 
sented to the eye. Vessels adorned with flags, and 
fluttering with ribbons, were seen on every side, 
while others hovered around the barge of Wash- 
ington, singing songs of victory, and playing tri- 
umphant strains in honor to his name. As he 
stepped on shore, the artillery announced his land» 
ing, and one loud, " Long live Washington,'' rent 
the air. 

A military escort was appointed to attend him, 
and when the officer announced his commission, 
Washington replied, " I require no guard, but the 
affections of the people," and declined their attend- 
ance. The military train, however, escorted him 
to the house of his abode, which he entered amidst 
the waving of flags and music of trumpets. On the 
13th day of April, 1789, he took the oath, and 
entered on the office of President of the United 
States. The oath was administered in the Balcony 
of the old Federal Hall, in New York, by the 
Chancellor of State, and the Bible on which it was 
sworn, is still preserved as a sacred relic. 



OF WASHINGTON. 147 



FAREWELL TO PUBLIC LIFE. 

Washington having served his country in the 
capacity of President for the term of eight years, 
and in this important trust, met with the universal 
approbation of a free people, he bade adieu to public 
life on the 4th of March, 1797. His successor was 
Mr. Adams, and he waited in Philadelphia just long 
enough to pay a tribute of respect to him, who by the 
choice of the people had become the Chief Magistrate 
of the United States. It is recorded of Washington, 
that he entered the Senate Chamber as a private 
citizen, and while all eyes were fixed upon him, — 
perhaps for the last time, he took the hand of the 
new President, wishing that his administration 
might prove as happy for himself, as for his coun- 
try ; then bowing to the assembly, retired, unat- 
tended as he came. Having left the Presidential 
chair, he repaired to Mount Vernon, to spend the 
last years of his honored life, — followed by the 
blessings of a free and grateful people. He was 
never after called into action ; his closing years 
were happily and usefully spent in the bosom of 
domestic enjoyments, and rural life. While here in 
the quiet repose of Mount Vernon, he was visited 
by persons from all quarters of the world. They 
came to see the man who had delivered a nation 
from bondage, and who finally left it in possession 
of the crown of freedom he had won. 



148 THE MEMORY 



RESPECT TO WASHINGTON. 

The merchants of Philadelphia, to show their 
respect for Washington, who had served his coun- 
try in the administration of Government for eight 
years, prepared a splendid banquet to which the 
General and officers in rank in the late army, and 
many persons of distinction were invited. It was 
given in the rotunda, and is thus described : — 

*' Upon entering the area, the General was con- 
ducted to his seat. On a signal given, music 
played Washington's march, and a scene which 
represented simple objects in the rear of the princi- 
pal seat, was drawn up, and discovered emblematical 
painting; the principal was a female figure large 
as life, representing America, seated on an eleva- 
tion composed of sixteen marble steps. At her left 
side stood the federal shield, and eagle ; and at her 
feet lay the cornucopise ; in her right hand she held 
the Indian calmut of peace, supporting the cap of 
liberty ; in the perspective appeared the temple of 
fame ; and on her left hand an altar dedicated to pub- 
lic gratitude, upon which incense was burning. In 
her left hand she held a scroll, inscribed valedic- 
tory ; and at the foot of the altar lay a plumed 
helmet and sword, from which a figure of Wash- 
ington large as life appeared, retiring down the 
steps, pointing with his right hand to the emblems 
of power which he had resigned, and with his left 
to a beautiful landscape, representing Mount Ver- 



or WASHINGTON. 149 

non, in front of which oxen were seen harnessed to 
the plough. Over the General appeared a g€7ims, 
placing a wreath of laurels on his head." 



THE EQUESTRIAN STATUE. 

Soon after peace was proclaimed, Congress 
passed a resolution for the erection of a statue of 
Washington, to this effect, viz. :— " That the statue 
be of bronze, the General to be represented in a 
Koman dress, holding a truncheon in his right 
hand, and his head encircled with a laurel wreath. 
The statue to be supported by a marble pedestal, in 
which is to be represented the principal events of 
the war in which Washington commanded in per- 
son, viz. — The capture of the Hessians, at Trenton, 
— the battle of Princeton, — the action of Monmouth, 
and the surrender of York." On the upper part of 
the front of the pedestal, to be engraved the resolu- 
tion of Congress. The statue stands in the capitol 
of Virginia, in a spacious area in the centre of the 
building. A bust of Lafayette, directed by the 
Legislature, is placed in a niche of the wall, in the 
same part of the building. 



150 THE MEMORY 



PARTING SCENES. 



ADIEU TO THE SOLDIERS. 

After Washington had served the cause of his 
country through seven years war, in which he 
secured our freedom from bondage, and won for 
himself unfading laurels ; it remained for him to 
bid adieu to his soldiers, and to resign his commis- 
sion to Congress. His companions in arms were 
associates in hard labor and severe sufferings. 

For the last time he assembled them at New- 
burg, when he rode out on the field, and gave them 
his parting address. To the tune of " Roslin 
Castle," — the soldier's dirge, — his brave comrades 
passed slowly by their great leader, and filed away 
to their respective homes. It was a thrilling scene. 
There were gray headed soldiers, who had grown 
old by hardships and exposures, and too old to 
begin life anew. Among them were those to whom 
Washington felt indebted for good service in the 
hour of danger. As he looked upon them for the 
last time, his eyes grew dim, and he said, " I am 
growing old in my country's service, and losing 
my sight; but I never doubted its justice or grati- 
tude." He addressed the soldiers in the spirit and 
language of a sage, and in the kindness of a 
father. 



OF WASHINGTON. 151 



PARTING WITH HIS OFFICERS. 

On the fourth of December, at twelve o'clock, 
by AVashington's request, his Officers, in full uni- 
form assembled in Francis' Tavern, New York, to 
take leave of their commander-in-chief. When he 
entered the room, every man arose with eyes 
turned towards him. As he lifted the glass of wine 
to his lips, he addressed them in affecting words. 
" With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now 
take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your 
latter days may be as prosperous as your former 
ones have been honorable and glorious." A pro- 
found silence followed, as each officer gazed on the 
countenance of their leader. He then requested 
them to come and take him by the hand. The first 
was General Knox, who grasped his hand in 
silence, and both embraced each other without 
uttering a word. One after another followed, 
receiving the embrace of the Commander, — when 
he left the room in silence, followed by his Officers 
in procession. As he passed through the Light In- 
fantry drawn up on either side to receive him, an old 
soldier, who was by his side on the terrible night 
of his march to Trenton, stepped out from the ranks 
and reaching out his arms, exclaimed, " Farewell, 
my dear General^ farewell.^^ Washington took his 
hand, when the soldiers forgot all discipline, rushed 
towards him, bathing him with their tears. This 
scene is often alluded to by those who were present. 



152 THE MEMORY 

They said " it was like a good Patriarch taking 
leave of his children, and going on a long journey, 
from whence he might return no more." 



PARTING WITH CONGRESS. 

After the farewell to his Officers, Washington 
proceeded to Whitehall, where a barge was wait- 
ing to take him across the river. He stepped on 
board, waving his hat, and bidding farewell to all. 
From New York he proceeded to Annapolis, in 
Maryland, where Congress was assembled. On 
his way he was everywhere received by the people 
as their Conqueror and Deliverer, with shouts of 
applause, and testimonials of their highest regard. 
When he arrived at Annapolis, he signified his 
intention of resigning his commission, and wished 
to know the manner in which it should be done. It 
was a public act, — the day was appointed, — and 
the multitude gathered to witness the ceremony. 
Washington was then introduced to a chair by the 
Secretary of Congress. The President then said, 
" The United States in Congress assembled, were 
prepared to receive his communication." He then 
arose with his accustomed natural grace, and 
addressed the President. The following is the 
close of his speech : — 

" I consider it an indispensable duty to close this 
last act of my official life by commending the in- 
terest of our dearest country to the protection of 



OF WASHINGTON. 153 

Almighty God ; and those who have the superin- 
tendence of them to his holy keeping. Having 
now finished the work assigned me, I retire from 
the great theatre of action, and bidding an affec- 
tionate farewell to this august body, under whose 
orders I have so long acted, I here offer my com- 
mission, and take leave of all my employments of 
public life." He then gave his commission into 
the hands of the President, who addressed him in 
an affecting and appropriate address. 



RESPECT TO MR. ADAMS. 

The last words of Washington to the people of 
the United States are contained in his farewell 
address. This address was the parting adieu of 
one to whom the people had turned their eye in 
the time of danger, and wisely regarded, under 
God's blessing, as their faithful servant and invalu- 
able friend. When he came before them in the 
Hall of Congress with his parting counsel, tears 
started from many eyes, especially when he ex- 
pressed the thought of soon being consigned to "the 
mansions of rest." At the last Session that he 
ever met Congress, December 7Lh, 1796, he offered 
many sound reasons to them for establishing the 
following Institutions and Societies: for the improve- 
ment of Agriculture — A Navy — A Military Acade- 
my — A Manufactory of Arms — and A National 
University. When taking his last leave of Phila- 
10 



154 THE MEMORY 

delphia, he could not think of going away until he 
had first paid his respects to Adams, the man 
whom the people had chosen as the chief magis- 
trate. This act, or respectful duty, brought him 
once more to the Senate House. It was about 
eleven o'clock, while the members were assembled 
in the Senate Hall anxiously waiting the arrival of 
Mr. Adams, that a rap was heard at the door. 
All eyes were looking towards it, expecting, as it 
opened, to see the President elect enter, when to 
their surprise, instead of Mr. Adams and his suite, 
Washington appeared, in his plain traveling dress, 
without a single attendant. Every countenance 
glowed with interest, and a general applause burst 
forth from every tongue. Welcome to the unex- 
pected guest ! The Father of his Country was in 
the presence of his friends, and every eye was 
rivited on his face, as memory recalled the dangers 
he had passed, the duties he had performed, and the 
victory he had won. Adams and his suite soon en- 
tered the Hall; when Washington having remained 
sufficient time to congratulate him on his inaugura- 
tion, and to pray that " his government might prove 
a great joy to himself, and a blessing to his coun- 
try," he hastened to Mount Vernon, there to spend 
the residue of life in quiet repose, and undisturbed 
tranquillity. And the prayer of the nation was 
that Heaven would pour its choicest blessings on 
ihis declining years. 



OP WASHINGTON. 155 



AT MOUNT VERNON. 

Three days after Washington's arrival at Mount 
Vernon, in a letter to Governor Clinton, he says, 
" The scene is at length closed. I feel myself 
eased of a load of public care, and hope to spend 
the remainder of my days in cultivating the affec- 
tions of good men, and in the practice of the domes- 
tic virtues." 

In a letter to Lafayette he writes, — " My dear 
Marquis, at length I have become a private citizen 
on the banks of the Potomac, and under the shadow 
of my own vine ; free from the bustle of a camp, 
and the busy scenes of public life. I am solacing 
myself with those tranquil enjoyments of which the 
statesman, the soldier, and the courtier, can have 
very little conception. I have not only retired from 
all public employment, but am retiring within my- 
self, — and shall be able to view the solitary walk, 
and tread the paths of private life with heartfelt 
satisfaction. 

" Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased 
with all ; and this my dear friend being the order 
of my march, I will move gently down the stream 
of Life, until I sleep with my Fathers. "=* 

* Marshall's Life of Washington, Vol II., p. 61. 



156 THE MEMORY 



PARTING WITH LAFAYETTE. 

When Lafayette resolved to join the American 
army, he set sail, and having arrived at Boston, the 
bells rang, the cannons roared, and the people fol- 
lowed him in crowds to the house of Hancock. 
Washington received him with open arms, and the 
multitude shouted, " Long live Lafayette.'" He 
endeared himself to Washington, and was on terms 
of the highest friendship with him through life. 
After the proclamation of peace, Lafayette, previous 
to his leaving this country, visited Washington at 
Mount Vernon. Washington then accompanied 
him as far as Annapolis, where they parted. In a 
letter to the Marquis, after their separation, Wash- 
ington writes, — " In the moment of our separation 
upon the road, as I traveled, and every hour since, 
I have felt all that love, respect, and attachment to 
you, which length of years, close connection, and 
your merits have inspired me. I often asked my- 
self, as our carriages separated, whether that was 
the last sight I ever should have of you. Although 
I wished to say No, my fears answered Yes. I 
called to mind the days of my youth, and found 
they had long since fled, to return no more. That 
I was now descending the hill I had been fifty-two 
years climbing ; and though I was blest with a 
good constitution, I was of a short-lived family, and 
might soon expect to be entombed in the mansion 
of my fathers. These thoughts darkened the 



OF WASHINGTON. 157 

shades, and gave a gloom to the picture ; and con- 
sequently to my prospect of seeing you again." 



PARTING WITH HIS MOTHER. 

After Washington was appointed President of 
the United States, he went to visit his mother at 
Fredericksburg. Informing her of his election, he 
says, " I have come to bid you farewell," promising 
to return as soon as public business would admit. 
She replied, " You will see me no more ; my 
great age and the disease which is fast preying on 
my vitals, warn me that I shall not be long in this 
world. But go George, fulfill the high destinies 
which Heaven appears to assign to you : go, my 
son, and may Heaven's and your mother's blessing 
be with you always." The hero leaned his head 
upon her shoulder and wept. 



PARTING WITH A FAVORITE NEPHEW. 

After Washington had retired to Mount Vernon 
for the last time, it was in hope of enjoying a vig- 
orous old age. But it was otherwise. Here he 
lived but three years ; having finished the work 
for which he seems to have been expressly designed, 
he was suddenly called away by death. A favorite 
nephew who was accustomed to visit him, describes 
his last interview with him as follows. "During 



158 THE MEMORY 

my last visit to the general, we walked together 
about the grounds, and talked of various improve- 
ments he had in contemplation. The lawn was to 
be extended down to the river in the direction of 
the old tomb, which was to be removed on account 
of the inroads made by the roots of the trees with 
which it is crowned, and which caused it to leak. * I 
intend to place it there,' said he, pointing to the 
spot where the new tomb now stands. ' First of all 
I shall make this change, for after all, I may require 
it before the rest.' 

" When I parted from him, he stood on the steps 
of the front door, where he took leave of myself 
and another, and wished us a pleasant journey, as 
I was ffoinsf to Westmoreland on business. It was 
a bright frosty morning, he had taken his usual 
ride, and the clear healthy flush on his cheek, and 
his sprightly manner brought the remark from both 
of us that we had never seen the general look so 
well. A few days afterwards, being on my way 
home, in company with others, while we w^ere con- 
versing about Washington, I saw a servant rapidly 
riding towards us. On his near approach I recog- 
nized him as belonging to Mount Vernon. He rode 
up — his countenance told the story — he handed me 
a letter — Washington was dead." 

Note. — The decease of Washington -will be found on another 
page. 



OF WASHINGTON. 159 



WASHINGTON AND LAFAYETTE. 



MARQUIS DE LAFAYETTE. 

In introducing Lafayette's connection with Wash- 
ington and the American Army, we shall first 
briefly notice the circumstances under which he left 
his home and embarked for this country. 

The very early days of Lafayette gave but little 
promise of the long and eventful life that followed. 
At thirteen years of age he was left an orphan, and 
in full possession of valuable estates, and master of 
his own affairs. At twelve years of age he was placed 
at the college in Paris, and was there surrounded 
with gay and fashionable society. He was much 
noticed at the court of Louis, and was quite a 
favorite with that monarch. He was appointed one 
of the queen's pages, and through her agency re- 
ceived a commission at the early age of fifteen. — 
He formed an early attachment to his amiable wife, 
and was married at the age of sixteen. Two years 
after his marriage, in 1776, Lafayette's attention 
was directed to the conflict of liberty in America : 
and while in conversation with the Duke of Glou- 
cester, brother to George 111. of England, he elici- 
ted facts that led him to see the whole merits of the 
case. Before rising from the table his purpose was 
formed, and he resolved to leave his home, and to 



160 THE MEMORY 

offer himself and his services to the cause of free- 
dom in this country. For further knowledge re- 
specting the matter, he immediately repaired to 
Paris, and making known his intentions to two 
young friends, (enjoining the secret upon them) pro- 
posed that they should unite with him in the enter- 
prise, but their parents refused their consent. They 
however, kept faithfully Lafayette's secret. 

He made known his intentions to Count de 
Broglie, who urged him to abandon the purpose at 
once, saying, " I have seen your uncle die in the 
wars of Italy, I witnessed your father's death at the 
battle of Minden, and I will not be accessory to the 
ruin of the only remaining branch of the family." 
Finding his arguments failed to divert Lafayette 
from his purpose, he said that he would introduce 
him to Baron de Kalb, who was seeking an opportu- 
nity to go to America, and whose experience and 
counsels might be valuable. By this means La- 
fayette obtained information from Silas Deane, who 
made him acquainted with the state of things in 
America, and encouraged him in his intentions. It 
was proposed that he should take passage in a ves- 
sel about to be sent to America with arms, and 
other military supplies ; but the news of the evacu- 
ation of New York, the loss of Fort Washington, 
and the retreat across the Jersey, with other disas- 
ters attending the war, defeated the plan of sending 
the vessel as proposed. Lafayette was advised to 
give up his purpose, but he said " My zeal and 
love of liberty have, perhaps, been hitherto the pre- 



OF WASHINGTON. 161 

vailing motive, but now I see a chance for useful- 
ness which I have not anticipated. I have money ; 
I will purchase a ship which shall convey to 
America myself, my companions, and the freight 
for Congress." This was done, but the vessel which 
he purchased needing .repairs, caused some delay; 
during which time he paid a visit to England with 
his cousin the Prince de Poix. After an absence of 
about three weeks he received information that his 
vessel was ready at Bordeaux, when he returned to 
France. Arriving at Paris he proceeded directly to 
the house of Baron de Kalb, and there met with a 
few of his friends, who were favorable to his pro- 
ject. He was soon informed that his intended de- 
parture was by some means made known to the 
Court, and that orders were issued to arrest it. Res- 
olute in his purpose, he proceeded to the nearest 
port of Passage in Spain, where he left his vessel 
and returned immediately to Bordeaux. Here he 
met two officers dispatched by the king, with a let- 
ter prohibiting his departure. He was required to 
repair at once to Marseilles and there wait for fur- 
ther orders. Under pretence of obeying this order 
he set off, in a post-chaise, on the road to Mar- 
seilles in company with an officer named Mauroy, 
who was desirous of visiting America. But as 
soon as they left the environs of Bordeaux, Lafay- 
ette assumed the disguise of a courier, and taking 
the road to Bayonne, rode on before the carriage 
in the capacity of servant to Mauroy ; and while he 
remained there to transact some commission busi- 



162 THE MEMORY 

ness Lafayette lay on the straw in the stable. At 
the village of St. Jean-de-Luz, while calling for 
horses, he was detected by the daughter of the man 
who kept the post-house, she having seen him a 
few days before on his way from Passage to Bor- 
deaux. He made a signal to the girl to keep si- 
lence which she understood. His pursuers came 
up and inquired of her if she had seen such a per- 
son pass that way, and she assured them she had 
seen no such person as they described. This cir- 
cumstance is assigned as the reason of his not being 
overtaken by his pursuers before he reached his 
vessel at Passage. On the26ih of April, 1777, he 
set sail under a favorable wind, for America, ac- 
companied by eleven officers, and also Baron de 
Kalb. As soon as it was ascertained that he was 
gone, orders from the Court of France were issued 
to the colonies of the West Indies to arrest his pro- 
gress. He anticipated the pursuit, and induced the 
Captain of the Victory to sail directly for the 
American coast, although the Captain had on board, 
for his own account, a cargo for the West Indies, 
valued at eight thousand dollars. Having nearly 
reached the coast of America they saw a vessel ap- 
parently in chase, which proved to be an American 
privateer, returning from a cruise among the 
islands and bound homeward. 

They endeavored to keep up with the American 
vessel but were not able. The next day the Ameri- 
can encountered two English frigates, and was 
made a prize. After a perilous passage of sixty 



OF WASHINGTON. 163 

days, the French vessel reached the shore near 
Georgetown, in South Carolina. It was dark. 
Entering the mouth of the Pedee River, Lafayette 
with some of the officers entered the small boat 
and rowed to the shore. Attracted by a distant light, 
they came to the house of Benjamin Huger, a gen- 
tleman of great hospitality and highly respectable 
character. At first the dogs growled around the 
house, and the people within supposed them to be 
a party of marauders from the enemy's vessel. Be- 
fore gaining admission, it was demanded who they 
were and what they wanted. After all suspicions 
virere removed, the object of their mission being 
made known, the strangers were received with a 
cordial welcome, and a generous hospitality ; and 
every arrangement was made for their personal 
comfort. That night Lafayette retired to rest, 
grateful to God that he was now safely landed on 
American soil, beyond the reach of his pursuers. 

The next morning he arose early and looking 
out from his window his eyes was delighted with 
the beautiful landscape, " clothed with the luxuri- 
ant verdure of June, and smiling in the rosy light 
of an unclouded morning." 

We here add that the wife of Lafayette sympa- 
thized with him in his enterprise, and laid no obsta- 
cle in his way. After his arrival at Charleston, he 
directed letters to her and to his friends at home. 
The following extract from a letter to his wife will 
be read with interest. 

" I first saw the country life at the house of Ma- 



164 THE MEMORY 

jor Huger. I am now in the city, where every- 
thing is very much after the English fashion, ex- 
cept that there is more simplicity, equality, cordi- 
ality and courtesy here than in England. The 
American women are very pretty, simple in their 
manners, and exhibit a neatness which is every- 
where cultivated. What most charms me is, that 
all the citizens are brethren. In America there are 
no poor, nor even what we call peasantry. Each 
individual has his own honest property and the 
same rights of the most wealthy proprietor." In 
the same letter he writes, expressing his warm af- 
fection for his wife and children : " Write frequent 
and long letters : you do not know the full extent 
and joy with which I shall receive them. Embrace 
Henrietta tenderly. May I say embrace tenderly 
our children. The father of these poor children is 
a rover, but a good and honest man at heart ; a 
good father who loves his family dearly, and a good 
husband who loves his wife with all his heart." 

Lafayette with the party left Charleston and trav- 
eled over broken roads, and in bad weather, to Phil- 
adelphia, where he put his letters into the hands of 
Mr. Lovell, Chairman of the Committee of Foreign 
Affairs. The next day he was met outside the Hall 
of Congress by Mr. Lovell, who said to him, "that 
so many foreigners had offered themselves for em- 
ployment, that Congress was embarrassed with 
their applications, and he was sorry to inform him 
that there was but little hope of his success." La- 
fayette suspecting his papers had not been read, 



OF WASHINGTON. 165 

immediately addressed a note to the President of 
Congress, requesting to serve in the American 
army, on condition that he should receive no pay 
and that he should act as a volunteer. The terms 
were accepted, and before he had reached the age 
of twenty-one he was appointed Major General in 
the army. We here present our readers a few an- 
ecdotes of this estimable man in his connection 
with Washington and the cause of freedom he so 
faithfully served. 



Lafayette's young friend. 

Among the children of Major Huger, was a fine 
little boy who attracted the attention of Lafayette. 
He was at first alarmed at the sudden arrival of so 
many guests, and not a little puzzled at their for- 
eign accent and broken language. Lafayette took 
special notice of him, and soon became as familiar 
with the boy as if he were his own son. He 
would sit upon his knee, walk with him over the 
plantation grounds, and entertain the French vis- 
itor with his boyish prattle, and with very intelli- 
gent questions concerning his native land. As the 
cause of freedom was at that time everywhere dis- 
cussed by the children of America, this little boy 
entered into the feelings of Lafayette with the en- 
thusiasm of a devoted patriot. From this time, the 
name of Marquis became associated in the mem- 
ory of young Francis K. Huger, with all that was 



166 THE MEMORY 

good and great. He ever afterwards spoke of La- 
fayette with the highest respect and veneration; 
often inquired of his welfare, and treasured up the 
events of his subsequent career ; and on one occa- 
sion risked the boon of liberty and life in his ser- 
vice, when he, together with Dr. Bolhman, set on 
foot the daring enterprise of rescuing Lafayette 
from the prison walls of Olmutz. 



INTRODUCTION TO WASHINGTON. 

His first introduction was at a dinner party 
where several members of Congress were present. 
When they were separating Washington took La- 
fayette aside, and spoke to him very kindly, com- 
plimented him on the sacrifices he had made, on 
leaving his home, friends, and family, for the 
American cause, — assured him of his friendship and 
invited him to make his head-quarters his home, 
and consider himself a member of his own family. 
He could not promise him the luxuries of a French 
court since he had now become an American sol- 
dier, but assigned him all essential aid in his per- 
sonal comfort, hoping he would submit with a good 
grace to the customs and privations of a republican 
army. His horses and equipage were forwarded 
to the camp, and he enjoyed, from that time, all the 
advantages of the General's family. 



OF WASHINGTON. 167 



Lafayette's commission. 

July 31st, 1777, Lafayette received, by a reso- 
lution of Congress, his commission as a Major 
General of the American army. On the 11th of 
the September following, he engaged in the unfor- 
tunate battle of the Brandywine. There he plunged 
into the hottest of the battle, exposed himself to its 
dangers, and exhibited a noble example of coolness 
and courage. When the troops began to retreat in 
disorder, he threw himself from his horse, entered 
the ranks and endeavored to rally them. At this 
moment he was shot by a musket ball through the 
leg. Not perceiving the wound himself, he was 
told that the blood was running from his boot. The 
surgeon dressed it with a slight bandage so that he 
was enabled to ride to Chester. But his heart was 
so intent on rallying the disordered troops that he 
forgot the wound, and it was not fully dressed till 
his object was accomplished. It was two months 
before the wound was sufficiently healed to enable 
him to rejoin the army. This was his first engage- 
ment in the field of action, and his first introduc- 
tion into active service in this country. 

Lafayette accompanied Washington on a visit of 
examination to the fortifications in and around 
Philadelphia, and then proceeded with him to the 
camp. The troops were there reviewed by the 
General in person. The soldiers were poorly clad, 
miserably armed, and entirely unskilled in military 



168 THE MEMORY 

tactics. When Washington expressed to Lafayette 
his embarrassment on presenting such an army be- 
fore a European officer like himself, he modestly 
replied, " I have come here to learn and not to 
teach y 



HONOR AND ATTACHMENT. 

At the time the American army was quartered 
at Valley Forge, Lafayette was called upon to take 
a conspicuous station in the army under circum- 
stances which will show, in the strongest light, his 
attachment to Washington, and his fidelity to the 
American cause. A plan was in process to raise 
General Gates to the head of the army in place of 
Washington. To effect this it was deemed neces- 
sary by the conspirators to draw Lafayette into the 
conspiracy. With this view an expedition against 
Canada was projected, to be ordered by Congress, 
and to be carried on by a distinct army under a 
commander who should not be responsible to Wash- 
ington. Gates was the projector of this scheme. 
In the latter part of January, 1778, Washington 
received a letter from Gates enclosing another to 
Lafayette, informing him that he was appointed to 
the command of the expedition. Washington placed 
the commission into the hands of his friend without 
any remarks. Lafayette read the letter, and per- 
ceiving the design of its projectors, declared to three 
commissioners of Congress, who was in the camp 



OF WASHINGTON. 169 

and present at the moment, that he would never 
accept any command independent of his General. 
His first thought was to decline the appointment 
altogether ; but Washington advised him to accept 
of it, expressing his satisfaction with the appoint- 
ment. Being thus advised he accepted the charge 
on the condition of remaining subordinate to Wash- 
ington, and being considered but as an officer de- 
tached from his command. The stipulations were 
agreed to, and he proceeded, under his new com- 
mission, to York, and from thence, by the direction 
of Congress, to Albany. Here while at the house 
of General Gates, and at the dinner-table, Miffiin 
and Conway, who were engaged in the plot, being 
present, Lafayette avowed his own sentiments in a 
manner which led them to see that there was no 
hope of enlisting the young officer in their secret, 
and dishonorable plans. It was this : as they were 
about to separate, Lafayette remarked that there 
was one toast which they had not drunk, which 
could not without violence to his feelings be 
omitted. The glasses being filled, he gave — " The 
Commander-in-chief of the American army." It 
was received with indifference, though drunk with 
the usual ceremony of respect. This avowal of 
his own attachment to Washington, cut off all their 
hopes of making him a tool of factions to promote 
their own elevation, and their object was defeated. 
11 



170 THE MEMORY 



ARRIVAL OF THE FRENCH AMBASSADOR. 

On the 13th of April, 1778, a French frigate 
landed at Falmouth, (now Portland, Me.,) with the 
bearer of dispatches, Simeon Deane, bringing the 
joyful intelligence of a treaty with France. It was 
hailed with enthusiastic feelings through every 
town which he passed on his way to York. When 
Lafayette received intelligence of his arrival, he 
could scarcely contain his joy. He ran to General 
Washington, and embracing him, with tears of 
gratitude exclaimed, " The king, my master, has 
acknowledged your independence, and formed an 
alliance with you to secure and establish it." 



SYMPATHY FOR THE SOLDIER. 

At the battle of Monmouth, an incident occurred 
which reflects much honor upon Sir Henry Clinton, 
as well as upon the courage and humanity of La- 
fayette. Having approached with a small escort, 
within reach of the enemy's guns, for the purpose 
of reconnoitering their position, the aid-de-camp 
and friend of Lafayette was struck by a ball, and 
he fell at his side. The officers and soldiers fled 
from the scene, but Lafayette hastened to the spot, 
leaped from his horse, and leaning over him, ad- 
dressed him in tones of kindness and afl^ection, and 
would not leave him while a chance remained of 



OF WASHINGTON. 171 

saving his life. But it was too late — death ended 
the scene. Turning away with deep emotion, he 
left his friend with slow and mournful steps. It is 
said that Sir Henry Clinton was present in person 
at this scene ; and recognizing the young marquis, 
by the snow-white charger which he always rode, 
was so touched with his manly grief, that he com- 
manded the gunners to cease firing, and permitted 
him to retire unmolested, when he soon rejoined 
his escort, who waited for him at a safe distance 
from the battery. 



LAFAYETTE LEAVING FOR FRANCE. 

Lafayette, though united to the American cause, 
by the strongest ties, felt it his duty to serve his 
native country. France being now at war with 
England, he requested a temporary leave of ab- 
sence, which was granted by Congress. Washing- 
ton, with both his officers and soldiers of the army, 
expressed their admiration of his character and con- 
duct, and their deep regret at his leaving the army. 
On leaving the camp for Boston, from whence he 
was to sail for Europe, he was obliged to travel on 
horseback. Being much exposed to chilly winds 
and frequent rains, a fever set in, which well nigh 
terminated his life. For three months he was 
detained under the medical care of the principal 
surgeon of the army. "Washington's head-quarters 
was at this time not but a few miles from Fishkill, 



172 THE MEMORY 

where Lafayette lay dangerously sick. He exhib- 
ited great interest in his welfare, visited him daily, 
and entreated the physician to attend him as if he 
were his own son, adding with deep emotion, " / 
love him as truly as if he tvere so." The fever raged 
with great violence, and he prepared himself to 
meet death with composure. He regretted to think 
he must take his leave so early of his friends and 
the cause of liberty, in which he had commenced a 
brilliant career. From the tender care which he 
received, and the aid of a strong constitution, the 
fever subsided, and the prospect of his recovery 
was hailed with universal joy, and sincere gratitude 
to God. As soon as he was able, accompanied by 
the physician, he started for Boston, and sailed 
from that port to Havre, on the 11th of January. 
During the voyage the frigate encountered a severe 
gale on the banks of Newfoundland, which carried 
away the main-top-mast, and for one night was 
considered in the greatest danger. The frigate 
outrode the gale, only to meet in her crew a more 
appalling disaster. Desertion and treason, mutiny 
and massacre, were encouraged by the British 
ministry on board the American ships ; and even 
pay was promised to the crew for every rebel 
vessel which they should bring to an English 
port. Whether the crew of the Alliance shipped 
with this object in view, was never ascertained; 
but they formed a plot which had nearly ripened 
into action, before it was discovered. 



OP WASHINGTON. 173 



THE PLOT. 



The mutineers fixed the day for their bloody 
purpose. In order to bring up all the officers and 
passengers on deck, they arranged for the men 
stationed in the top to give the signal, by the cry of 
" sail ho !" The conspirators, by the aid of the 
gunner's mate, had furnished themselves with guns, 
and at four P. M., the signal was to be given, 
when they were to sweep every man from the 
deck, including the officers, and take possession of 
the vessel. The men were all prepared with loaded 
muskets, ready for the awful deed. An American 
seaman, whose peculiar accent in his words led 
them to suppose he belonged to the British ranks, 
was offered the command of the frigate if he would 
join them. With great self-possession he pretend- 
ed to accept the proposal, and thereby informed 
himself of the whole secret plot, and watched a 
favorable opportunity to defeat their purpose. About 
three o'clock, unnoticed by any of the conspirators, 
he divulged the whole matter to the captain, and 
also to General Lafayette. The officers and pas- 
sengers were immediately summoned, who rushed to 
the deck with sword in hand, and called upon every 
true American and French sailor, to seize the ring- 
leaders and put them in irons. Thirty-one were 
secured and brought to trial. Eight days after the 
detection of the plot, the Alliance entered the port 
of Brest. The prisoners were not executed, but 



174 THE MEMORY 

only detained as British prisoners. Thus Lafay- 
ette was twice preserved on this voyage ; and 
though he stole away like a fugitive from his 
country, he now, after an absence of nearly two 
years, returned for the first time with the highest 
office in the revolutionary army, and was welcomed 
home by his people with great enthusiasm and 
triumph. 



THE QUEEX OF FRANCE. 

The Queen of France, though opposed to the 
principles of the American revolution, much ad- 
mired the heroism of Lafayette. She sympathized 
with the people of France in paying homage to 
his courage, and honored him with special marks 
of royal favor. The following lines are from an 
old poem, and said to be copied by her own hand. 
They serve to illustrate her own estimation of the 
talents and character of the young nobleman : — 

" Why talk of youth, 
When all the ripe experience of the old 
Dwells with him ? In his schemes profound and cool. 
He acts with wise precaution, and reserves 
For times of action, his impetuous fire. 
To guard the camp, to scale the leaguered wall, 
Or dare the hottest of the fight, are toils 
That suit the impetuous bearing of his youth ; 
Yet like the gray-haired veteran he can shun 
The field of peril. Still before my eyes 
I place his bright example, for I love 
His lofty courage, and his prudent thought ; 
Gifted like him, a warrior has no age." 



OF WASHINGTON. 175 

At this time she purposed to send to Washing- 
ton a royal present, as a token of her admiration. 
She consulted Lafayette as to the form of present- 
ing it, citing the terms used on similar occasions, 
in addressing the King of Sweden and other mon- 
archs. Lafayette objected to the terms, as being 
unsuitable in this case, saying, " They, madam, 
were only kings. Washington is the General of a 
free nation." 



THE MAGNIFICENT SWORD. 

While the forces of France were waiting at 
Havre, previous to their departure for America, in 
which Lafayette held an important command under 
Marshal de Vaux, he was presented by the hands of 
the grandson of Dr. Franklin, a magnificent sword 
which the Congress of the United States had 
voted him on the eve of his departure to America. 
The handle and the mountings were of massive 
gold, beautifully carved. On the knob were two 
medallions ; one exhibiting a shield, with the La- 
fayette arms, and a Marquis coronet surmounted by 
a streamer, inscribed with his favorite motto " Cur 
NoN." The other a continent illuminated by the 
moon's crescent, representing the rising glory of 
America. In the centre of the shaft were two oval 
medallions, representing on one side, the British 
lion prostrate under the foot of Lafayette, and on 
the other America presenting a laurel branch to 



176 THE MEMORY 

her young defender. Piles of arms and laurel 
crowns made up the remaining ornaments of the 
shaft. On the guard were four medallions, two on 
the convex, and two on the concave face, represent- 
ing in bas relief, the battles of Gloucester and Mon- 
mouth, and the retreats of Barren Hill and Rhode 
Island. The sides of the guard w^ere appropriately- 
decorated — the front side bearing this inscription — 
" From the American Congress to the Marquis de 
Lafayette, 1779." The mounting of the scabbard 
was of gold, carved with symbolic devices. On 
one side a large oval medallion, represented Fame 
on the wing, crossing the ocean, in advance of the 
frigate which conveyed Lafayette back to France. 
In one hand she held the crown awarded by 
America to Lafayette, and in the other the trumpet 
with which she proclaimed to Europe his heroic 
exploits. On the other side was a shield, encircled 
with laurel, intended to receive the cipher and de- 
vice of Lafayette, the founder of a new name. 
During the reign of terror this sword was buried, 
for safe keeping, in the garden of Chavagniac. 



Lafayette's returx and reception. 

When Lafayette was about returning to America 
he addressed a letter to Washington, in which he 
says, " However happy I am, in France, however 
well treated by my country and king, I am bound 
to you, to America, and to my fellow soldiers there. 



OP WASHINGTON. 177 

with such an affection that the moment when I 
shall sail for your country, will be one of the most 
wished for and happiest of my life." 

Dressed in the equipage of an American officer, 
he took leave of the French corps, and sailed from 
the island of Aix in the French frigate Hermione, 
March 19th, 17S0, and arrived at Boston on the 
28th of the following April. He was received at 
the wharf with warm greetings from the multitude, 
and escorted in a triumphal procession to the resi- 
dence of Governor Hancock, on Beacon Hill. 
From thence he hastened to head-quarters at Mor- 
ristown, and was there received by his " beloved 
"Washington," and the American soldiers with ex- 
pressions of the highest regard and affection. Im- 
mediately after his arrival, Washington wrote to 
the French minister expressing the "joy he felt at 
the arrival of the Marquis de Lafayette." He was 
everywhere received with open arms, and greeted 
by Congress with special marks of approbation. 
He now received the command of a selected corps 
of light infantry, consisting of two thousand men, 
and constituting the vanguard of the army. While 
in France, Lafayette purchased a large quantity of 
military ornaments for the soldiers, swords for the 
officers and banners for the battalions. One ban- 
ner bore this motto — "Ultima katio " — the last 
resort. Another had a crown of laurel united to a 
civic crown, with the motto ^^ No other.^^ 

On the 4th of July, Lafayette expressed his de- 
sire to Washington to have the whole army suita- 



178 THE MEMORY 

bly clad, and proposed if necessary to go to France 
and purchase ten thousand complete suits. When 
efforts were being made at this time by wealthy 
merchants, and the ladies of Philadelphia to assist 
the finances of the country, the movement was sec- 
onded by Lafayette, who added the name of his 
wife to the list for the sum of one hundred guineas. 



The treason of Arnold came to its crisis, during 
Washington's visit at Hartford, where he had gone 
in company with Lafayette and Knox, to confer 
with Admiral Turney and Count Rochambeau. On 
returning he came by the way of West Point, for 
the purpose of inspecting, and showing to Lafay- 
ette the fortifications which had been constructed 
during his absence in France. From thence they 
proceeded to Arnold's head-quarters, known as the 
" Robinson House," a few miles on the east side of 
the river below West Point. A message had been 
sent forward that the party might be expected there 
to breakfast. Having arrived opposite West Point, 
Washington turned suddenly into a narrow road, 
when Lafayette said to him, " General, you are 
going in a wrong direction — Mrs. Arnold will be 
waiting breakfast for us." Washington replied 
with a smile, " Ah ! I know you young men are 
all in love with Mrs. Arnold. Ride on and tell her 
not to wait for me ; but I will join you soon." 



OF WASHINGTON. 179 

They however accompanied their commander to 
the river, having first sent forward Hamilton and 
M'Henry to explain the cause of their delay. On 
their arrival Arnold sat down with them to break- 
fast. While seated at the table, a letter was handed 
him from a messenger, which he opened and read 
in the presence of the company. It contained im- 
portant news : — the capture of Andre, the failure 
of his nefarious plot, and his own perilous situa- 
tion. Arnold concealed his emotions and immedi- 
ately left the room, leaving word for General 
Washington that urgent business had suddenly 
called him to West Point, and that he would await 
his arrival at that place. Instead of going there 
he proceeded directly to the Vulture — a British 
frigate, lying on the river below, and through the 
means of which, he had been laying his treason- 
able plot by a correspondence with Sir Henry Clin- 
ton. Washington arrived soon after and partaking 
of a hasty breakfast started for West Point, where 
he became suspicious that all was not right. He 
returned again to Arnold's quarters, where the 
w^hole plot was disclosed by the papers which Col. 
Hamilton had just received. At this critical junc- 
ture of affairs, Lafayette, at the age of twenty-two, 
was the bosom friend of Washington.^ 

It is said that Arnold after ordering his horse to 
be saddled, repaired to his private room, sent for his 
wife and in a hurried manner confessed to her the 

* Cutters Life of Lafayette. 



180 THE MEMORY 

whole affair, saying that unless he reached the 
Enoflish lines without detection he would lose his 
life. And bidding- her farewell, saying perhaps 
they would meet no more, he left his beautiful 
wife, fainting at his feet, with a crushed and broken 
heart. 



THE VETERAN AND THE BOY. 

Cornwallis was a distinguished officer in the 
British army, eminent for military talents and great 
skill in the battle field. On the 20th of May, with 
a force of eight thousand men, one thousand of 
whom were mounted on horses, he arrived at Pe- 
tersburg with the purpose of engaging in an action 
with the force, headed by Lafayette, counting less 
than three thousand. In a letter to Clinton, Corn- 
wallis says, " The hoy cannot escape ??ze." 

On the 24th the veteran chief commenced his 
movements, and after pursuing Lafayette for sev- 
eral days was compelled to give up the chase. The 
young General recrossed the Rapidon and overtook 
the British army, while but a day's march from Al- 
bemarle. Cornwallis then pitched his camp near 
the river, and advancing his light troops to a posi- 
tion where he supposed the Americans could only 
pass, and where he believed the boy would be 
obliged to come to action, or retrace his steps. 
Here he was disappointed. Lafayette discovered 
another road during the night, which for a long 



OF WASHINGTON. 181 

time, had been untraveled. This road was cleared 
with great dispatch and before morning, to the cha- 
grin and disappointment of the veteran officer, the 
" boy " and his army had crossed the Rivanna, and 
taken a strong position behind the Mechunck creek, 
in advance of tlie British camp, completely cover- 
ing the stores which had been the object of all these 
movements. Cornwallis seeing Lafayette's posi- 
tion dared not make an attack, but retired without 
striking a blow, first to Richmond and then to Wil- 
liamsburg. Lafayette followed with cautious steps, 
careful to avoid a general engagement, harassing 
all the time the British flanks and picking off their 
outposts, and light detachments. Cornwallis 
crossed over to Jamestown, and took possession of 
the island, while a part of his army remained in 
ambuscade upon the northern bank of the river. 
This movement was made with the hope of deceiv- 
ing Lafayette, who followed all the time close on 
his rear, intending to make an attack when the 
main body should have passed over. Young Mar- 
quis detected the artifice of the British General, 
having discovered from a point of land which jut- 
ted into the river, the major part of the army com- 
pactly disposed under cover of an artificial thicket 
which had been transplanted for the purpose. Re- 
turning to the camp he found Wayne already en- 
gaged, but perceiving the unequal nature of the con- 
flict, Lafayette gave orders for him to retreat, and 
form in a line with the infantry which was then 
drawn up in the rear. This movement was exe- 



182 THE MEMORY 

cuted with great success. During this encounter it 
is said that Lafayette displayed the courage and 
skill of a veteran officer. He was himself greatly 
exposed to danger, and one of his horses was killed 
under him. By this time the British General had 
learned something of the sterling qualities of the 
boy. 

LAFAYETTE AT MONMOUTH. 

In the battle of Monmouth, Lafayette generously 
resigned his command to Lee at the request of the 
latter. It is believed by those who were eye-wit- 
nesses of this portion of history, that if Lafay- 
ette had retained the command a signal victory 
would have been won. But as Lafayette was sub- 
ordinate in command, he was compelled to obey the 
orders of Lee. While this uncertain man was 
commanding in front of the enemy, giving orders 
to Lafayette to advance at one time, and to retreat 
at another, the latter saw a party of British troops 
on the right flank, so far advanced from the 
main body that he thought it could be easily cut 
off, — and hastening to Lee, he asked permission to 
attack it. "You do not know British soldiers," 
said Lee, " we cannot stand against them." La- 
fayette replied, " It may be so ; but British soldiers 
have been beaten, and it is presumed they may be 
again, — at all events I would like to make the 
trial.^^ The request was not granted, and here 
commenced the shameful retreat of Lee, which 



OF WASHINGTON. 183 

dimmed the " Star of honor " he won in Poland, 
and well nigh defeated the G«iuse of freedom. 

An anecdote is related by Mr. Headly, which 
serves to illustrate the affectionate relation, between 
Washington and Lafayeite. 

" When the burning sun of that terrible day, 
disappeared behind the western hills, and the ex- 
hausted armies sunk on the scorching earth, young 
Lafayette lay down beside Washington, and the 
tired chieftain wrapped him affectionately in his 
own mantle. For awhile they lay awake and 
talked over the events of the day and especially the 
conduct of Lee, until at length nature gave way 
and the two heroes and patriots slept." 

At one time, after the arrival ^of the French 
fleet in July, which made a descent upon Rhode 
Island, Lafayette hearing that Sullivan was at- 
tacked started off to his aid. He rode eighty miles 
in ten hours, and arrived in time to bring off the 
rear guard to the main land. In this service he 
acted as mediator between the French admiral and 
our government, and for which he received the 
warmest thanks of Washington and Congress. In 
a reply to the acknovvledgments of the latter he 
says, " The moment I heard of America I loved 
her ; the moment I knew she was fighting for free- 
dom, I burned with a desire of bleeding for her; 
and the moment I shall be able to serve her, at any 
time, or in any part of the world, will be the hap 
piest one of my life." 



184 THE MEMOEY 



RETURN TO EUROPE, j 

At the time of the negotiations for peace, the 
services of Lafayette were much needed in Europe. 
He therefore made preparations to return immedi- 
ately home to France. The Alliance, the same 
ship which conveyed him home on his previous 
visit was again at his disposal. He took passage 
on board this ship, under the highest testimonies of 
respect, which were universally cherished towards 
him, for his disinterested services in America. The 
prayers of a grateful people followed him across 
the ocean, and he was ever remembered by them 
as the disinterested volunteer, in the cause of free- 
dom. On the 17th of January, 1782, he landed 
safely at L'Orient — from thence he hastened to 
Versailles, where he was received by the King 
with marks of approbation, and by the people on 
the way with shouts of Welcome ! Welcome, La- 
fayette ! 

All his influence was still given to the interests 
of America, and from his commanding position at 
this time, approved by the King and admired by 
the Queen of France, he was enabled to operate 
with more advantage among the great ones of the 
earth. Congress had reposed unshaken confidence 
in him, and had instructed the American ministers 
and agents throughout Europe to consult with him 
in reference to their affairs. 

In a letter to Washington at this time he writes, 



OF WASHINGTON. 185 

" Though I am to re-enter the French line as a 
Field Marshal, from the date of Lord Cornwallis' 
surrender, I will moreover keep my American uni- 
form, and the outside as well as the inside of an 
American soldier, and will watch for the happy- 
moment when I may again join our beloved 
colors." 

In the contemplated French expedition to Can- 
ada, Count d'Estaing was appointed commander of 
the land and sea forces ; he accepted however only 
on condition that Lafayette should accompany him, 
as chief of the staff of the combined armies. This 
arrangement was readily made when another pro- 
posed that Lafayette should be named Governor of 
Jamaica in case of a conquest. " No," replied the 
King of Spain — " I will not consent to that — He 
would make it a republic." 



LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 

Just as arrangements were all made for the Can- 
ada Expedition, (the entire strength of the French 
and Spanish armies and navies with sixty-six ships 
of the line, and twenty-five thousand men — to- 
gether with a division of six thousand Spaniards, 
under the command of Las Casas ; all assembled 
at Cadiz, the entire fleet being on the eve of de- 
parture), the joyful intelligence arrived that the 
preliminaries for peace had been arranged at Paris. 
So happy was Lafayette on receiving the intelli- 
12 



186 THE MEMORY 

gence that he would have hastened to America him- 
self as the bearer of the tidings, had not his ser- 
vices been needed in Europe to insure the com- 
plete negotiations. By his request the Count dis- 
patched the fast sailing vessel, Le Triomphe, to 
carry the news. Under a fine breeze she crossed 
the Atlantic with her errand of peace, and arrived 
at Philadelphia, March 23d, 1783. All hostilities 
were suspended, and the voice of thanksgiving went 
up from every vale and hill in the land. About 
four weeks after, the independence of the United 
States was recognized by Spain. At this period 
Lafayette was but twenty-five years of age, and 
history presents him here as a " confidential agent 
of nations, the counselor of kings and cabinets." At 
this time he wrote a letter to Washington in which 
he says. 

My dear General, — Were you but such a man 
as Julius Coesar, or the King of Prussia, I should 
be almost sorry for you, at the end of the great 
tragedy where you are acting such a part. But 
with you I rejoice at the blessings of peace, where 
our noble ends have been secured. Remember our 
Valley Forge times, and from a recollection of 
past dangers and labors we shall better appreciate 
our present comfortable situation. 

" At the first opening of the prospect of peace I 
had prepared to go to America, but on a sudden 
have been obliged to defer my darling plan. In 
June I shall embark. Happy, ten times happy, 



OF WASHINGTON. 187 

shall I be in embracing my dear General, my 
father, my best friend, whom I love with an affec- 
tion and respect which I too well feel, not to know, 
that it is impossible for me to express it." 

In this letter Lafayette proposed a plan to Wash- 
ington for elevating the African race, to which the 
latter expressed his full approbation and desire, to 
unite with him in the laudable enterprise. 



VISITS AMERICA. 

Lafayette was anxious once more to see his "be- 
loved Washington " and the sons of freedom, for 
whom he cherished a devoted attachment, till his 
death. He had been earnestly solicited to come to 
America, and it was the desire of Washington that 
Madam Lafayette should accompany him. He 
sent her a letter in which he writes, '* You must 
have a curiosity to see the country, young, rude and 
uncultivated as it is, for the liberties of which your 
husband has fought, and whom every body ad- 
mires and loves. Let me entreat you to come — 
call at my cottage home, for your own doors do 
not open to you with more readiness than mine 
would." 

In 1784, Lafayette embarked for this country and 
arrived at New York, Aug. 4th. He wasVniver- 
sally welcomed with open arms, and received press- 
ing invitations to visit every city in the Union. In 



188 THE MEMORY 

eleven days after his arrival he was in the mansion 
of Washington at Mount Vernon, where he spent 
fourteen days. The interview of these two affec- 
tionate men at this time remains unrecorded. It 
must have been one of deep interest. The vener- 
able patriarch embraces the young Marquis in the 
prime of life. They are here together enjoying 
the luxury of congratulating each other, in the 
great work accomplished — the em.ancipation of 
America. They sat down together in the enjoyment 
of realized hopes. They had been together, side by 
side, in battle — slept in the same cloak on the cold 
earth — wept together at the sight of human suffer- 
ing — and shoulder to shoulder contended for right 
of liberty. 

Lafayette visited the States of New England, 
and was gratefully welcomed by the sons and 
daughters of freedom. Joined by Washington at 
Richmond, they traversed together a large portion 
of the country, visiting the recent fields of battle, 
and yet rejoicing in the peace of the nation, now- 
reposing under the Tree of Liberty. 

At Annapolis these two patriots — Washington 
and Lafayette — exchanged their last affectionate 
adieu, and terminated a personal intercourse replete 
w^ith the most eloquent passages in the history of 
the world, and abounding in the most touching in- 
cidents and noble enterprises. 

On ttie 8th of November, Lafayette met with Con- 
gress, then in session at Trenton, and there delivered 
up his commission to the President, and then bade 



OF WASHINGTON. 189 

each member an affectionate farewell. It was an im- 
pressive scene. That body had passed a resolution 
expressive of the people's gratitude for him, to 
which he replied by saying, at the close of his 
address : — 

" May this immense temple of freedom ever stand 
as a lesson to oppressors, an example for the op- 
pressed, a sanctuary for the rights of mankind ; and 
may these United States attain that complete splen- 
dor and prosperity which will illustrate the bless- 
ings of their government, and for ages to come re- 
joice the departed souls of their founders." 

On Christmas day, 1784, he left New York in 
the Nymphe frigate, and, after a passage of thirty- 
one days, he arrived in Paris. In his own native 
land, for a few years previous to the French Revo- 
lution, he enjoyed a season of domestic enjoyment, 
and which he denominates " the most peaceful days 
of his eventful life." He was here surrounded by 
friends, and honored by the world. His beautiful 
mansion became the seat of hospitalities, and the 
home of American visitors. 

In a letter to the wife of Lafayette, dated Mount 
Vernon, November 25, 1784, and forwarded by 
Marquis on his return home, Washington says : — 
" The Marquis returns to you with all the warmth 
and ardor of a newly inspired lover. We restore 
him to you in good health, crowned with wreaths 
of love and respect from every part of the Union. 
That his meeting with you, his family, and friends 
may be propitious, and as happy as your wishes 



190 THE MEMORY 

can make it ; that you may live long together, re- 
vered and beloved ; and that you may transmit to a 
numerous progeny the virtues which you both pos- 
sess is the fervent wish of 

Your devoted and humble servant, 

George Washington." 



ANECDOTES. 

The Vacant Panel. — Lafayette having furnish- 
ed his house at Paris, placed upon one of its walls 
a copy of the Declaration of Independence, leaving 
a space upon the opposite vacant. *' What do you 
design to place here ? " asked one of his friends. 
" The Declaration of the Rights of France," he re- 
plied. For eight years the vacant space remained 
unfurnished, when, on the 11th of July, the Dec- 
laration of the Rights of France was adopted, and 
the vacant panel was accordingly furnished. 

Key of the Bastile. — The Bastile of France 
was demolished, and was one of those events which 
Lafayette contemplated in the struggle for freedom. 
The key of that prison was presented to the Mar- 
quis as a representative of freedom in Europe. He 
sent it to Washington, with a sketch of the ruins of 
the fortress, saying, in a letter to him : " It is a 
tribute which I owe as a son to my adoptive father, 
as an aid-de-camp to my general, as a missionary 
of liberty to its patriarch." It is now carefully pre- 



OF WASHINGTON. 191 

served in a glass case in the Washington House at 
Mount Vernon. The first stone taken from the 
walls of the Bastile was presented to Lafayette by 
the person who contracted to take it down. 

A Medal and Statue. — The Municipal Council 
of Paris voted to Lafayette an emblematic medal 
and a marble statue of Washington, with the decree 
to be inscribed on the bust of Lafayette, which had 
been presented to the capital of France by the State 
of Virginia twelve years before. 

Washington Intercedes for Lafayette. — After 
the arrest and imprisonment of Lafayette, Wash- 
ington had commenced the second term of his ad- 
ministration, when he employed every possible 
method to procure his release. He caused repre- 
sentations to be made in his behalf to the govern- 
ments of England and France, and urged the min- 
isters at court to leave no means untried. He wrote 
a letter to Madame Lafayette, informing her that a 
thousand dollars was left for her with his bankers 
in Holland; stating, also, that he was indebted to 
her husband more than that sum for his valuable 
services in America. He wrote to the King of 
Prussia, urging the release of his dear friend, not 
only as an act of justice, but as a personal favor to 
himself. Application was made to the court of 
Vienna, in a private letter from Washington, in 
which he says : " In common with the people of 



192 THE MEMORY 

this country I retain a cordial and strong sense of 
the services rendered to them by the Marquis de 
Lafayette, and my friendship for him has been con- 
stant and sincere. It is natural, therefore, that I 
should sympathize with him and his family in their 
misfortunes, and endeavor to mitigate the cj^lamities 
they experience ; among which his present confine- 
ment is not the least distressing." Washington 
sent letters to all influential friends in England 
and on the continent, urging the release of La- 
fayette. 

Among the distinguished men who plead for the 
liberation of Lafayette were Fox, Wilberforce, 
Sheridan, Gray, Tarlton, and Fitzpatrick, the latter 
of whom says : " Still less can I sanction the idea 
that there exists in any corner of the British soil, in 
any English heart, conceptions so narrow as to 
wish to see the illustrious pupil of Washington 
perishing in a dungeon on account of his political 
principles." 

The devoted patriot was, however, compelled to 
endure the sufferings of imprisonment in the gloomy 
dungeon of Olmutz for the space of five years and 
one month. On the 19th of September, 1797, he 
was brought out into the light of day, and put be- 
yond the boundaries of Austria, ten days after his 
arrival at Hambursr. 



OF WASHINGTON. 193 



LAST VISIT TO AMERICA. 

Lafayette had grown old in the services he had 
rendered to America and France. The former 
country was as dear to him as his own native land. 
It was his earnest desire to see, once more, this 
land of freedom, for which he had nobly sacrificed 
his own personal interests. Accompanied by his 
son, George Washington, and his secretary, Mr. 
Levasseur, he took passage in the Cadmus, an 
American vessel, and sailed from Havre, July 12th, 
1S24. He arrived in New York August 1.5th, and 
landed on Staten Island. Forty years had elapsed 
since he was there. Thirteen independent States 
had become twenty-four, and the people were in 
the enjoyment of a peaceful republic. Joseph Bona- 
parte then resided at Bordentown, New Jersey. 
He had always cherished a high regard for the 
Marquis, and greatly valued his friendship. The 
interview was attended with warm emotions of 
heart, from the fact that they had both borne their 
part in the successive scenes of the Revolution in 
their own country. They were together alone in 
the library room, in undisturbed conversation, for 
one hour. " The grounds about the mansion were 
thronged with visitors, old and young, anxiously 
waiting to greet the nation's guest." As the fleet 
arrived off the Battery at New York, among which 
was the steamer "Robert Fulton," it is stated that 



194 THE MEMORY 

a military line was formed of over three thousand 
in number, and, the people crowding the Battery 
and the adjacent streets, swelled to the number of 
forty thousand. The patriot was deeply affected 
when he exchanged congratulations with his old 
companions and friends. Shout after shout went 
up in prolonged cheers, while the bands of music 
played a triumphant welcome to the hero. He vis- 
ited all the principal places of New England, and 
in every place he found some of the descendants of 
'76, ready to give him a hearty welcome. It may 
be interesting to young readers to mention a few 
incidents connected with his last visit to America. 

His Reception at Boston. — From the house of 
Governor Eustis, in Roxbury, he was attended by 
a crowd of people and a large cavalcade to the city 
line, where an assemblage of people awaited him. 
Here he was greeted by the Mayor of Boston and 
the citizens, through whom he passed in a carriage, 
under prolonged cheers. The streets were lined 
with spectators to the entrance of the Common. 
The children of the public schools formed two lines 
— the girls were dressed in white, and the boys in 
white pants and blue jackets, all wearing appropri- 
ate badges. A little girl sprang forward from the 
line as Lafayette was passing, and, at her request 
to speak to him, was lifted to his carriage, when 
she presented him with a wreath of flowers, which he 
received from her hand with an affectionate smile. 



OF WASHINGTON. 195 

Makblehead. — Among the many incidents which 
occurred in Lafayette's tour through the States, one 
is mentioned as occurring in the patriotic town of 
Marblehead. The Marquis appeared surprised at 
so many ladies being mingled with the male citizens, 
who had been deputed to receive him. The 
orator of the occasion, perceiving the surprise of 
the Marquis, said to him : " These are the widows 
of those who perished in the revolutionary war, and 
the mothers of children for whose liberty you have 
contended in the field of battle. They are now 
here in the places of their husbands, many of whom 
were once known to you." 

Marblehead was the " banner town " for furnish- 
ing soldiers, there being a larger proportion to the 
whole number of inhabitants from that town than 
that of any other place in the United States. The 
loss of men in the war fell heavily upon the small 
seaport towns : the British armed vessels hovering 
on the coast destroyed the coasting and fishing busi- 
ness. Being out of employment, nearly all the 
young and old men shouldered their muskets and 
joined the army. 

At Baltimore. — After leaving Philadelphia, 
where he was welcomed with great enthusiasm, 
he passed through Delaware, and landed at Balti- 
more, when he was conducted to the " Tent of 
Washington" and welcomed by an address from 
the governor, and received at the same time by 
the " Society of the Cincinnati." For some time 



196 THE MEMORY 

Lafayette could not understand the compliment 
conveyed in the selection of the tent. It was soon 
made plain, as he recognized a portion of Washing- 
ton's equipage : and turning to one near him, he 
said, in a voice that indicated much emotion, " I 
remember. ^^ 

At Washington. — Lafayette was cordially re- 
ceived at the " White House, by President Monroe. 
Congress was just meeting in the second session. 
He was introduced to both Houses, and was ad- 
dressed by Mr. Clay, speaker of the House of 
Kepresentatives. At this session the sum of two 
hundred thousand dollars, together with a township, 
consisting of twenty-four thousand acres of fertile 
land, was voted by Congress to Lafayette, as an 
expression of the grateful memory with which the 
people of this republic regarded his services in 
behalf of America. A few of the members voted 
against the appropriation from some constitutional 
scruples. Lafayette, taking one of them by the 
hand, said to him with considerable feeling, "I 
appreciate your views. If I had been a member, 
I should have voted with you, not only because I 
partake of the sentiments which determined your 
votes, but also because I think that the American 
nation has done too much for me." 

At Yorktown. — This place, which is distin- 
guished for the surrender of Cornwallis, presented 
a field of tents at the reception of Lafayette. The 



OF WASHINGTON. 197 

same house occupied by that British general, as his 
head-quarters, in 1781, was still standing. The 
general appearance of the place gave evidence of a 
deserted village. The houses there, which had 
been riddled with balls and enveloped with smoke, 
still retained the marks of battle. In many parts of 
the ground were seen broken shells, and gun 
carriages, with various implements of war, some 
on rocks, and others half buried in the earth ! 
Every arrangement was made on the arrival of 
Lafayette to give Yorktown the appearance of a 
*' village taken and occupied after a severe contest 
in battle." 

Among the tents erected on the occasion, were 
that of Washington, and many others which had 
furnished temporary apartments for weary soldiers 
during the campaign. An arch, bearing the names 
of Lafayette, Hamilton and Laurens, was erected 
on the very spot where the redoubt stood which 
was stormed by Lafayette; an obelisk was also 
erected, bearing the names of distinguished French- 
men. And on the same spot it is said that Gen. 
Taylor was designing, at the close of his address 
on this occasion, to place a blended civic crown 
and martial ^v^eath, in honor to Lafayette, who, 
while he acknowledged the compliment, averted its 
consummation, and taking the crown and wreath in 
his hand, called for Col. Fish, the only survivor of 
the attack upon the redoubt, and declared that half 
the honor belonged to him. 

Washington's marquee was erected on the plain, 



198 THE MEMORY 

just out of the village. To this tent Lafayette was 
escorted, where he welcomed the officers of the 
militia. Two old veterans were there, who had 
faced the enemy in war, and stood firm in the midst 
of the roar of cannon ; but as they pressed the hand 
of Lafayette on this occasion, they wept and fainted. 
Some of the servants who were present discovered 
in an obscure corner of a cellar a large box of can- 
dles, bearing marks of belonging to Cornwallis' 
military stores — having remained undisturbed for 
forty -three years. They were lighted for the even- 
ing, and notwithstanding the fatigues of the day, 
some of the old soldiers remained till the last 
vestige of the British candles had expired in the 
sockets. 

At Camden. — Here Lafayette assisted in laying 
the corner-stone of a monument, erected to the 
name and mem.ory of Baron de Kalb, a German by 
birth, who came to this country and volunteered his 
services in the American army for three years. He 
fell while engaged in the battle at Camden, pierced 
with eleven wounds. It is said that Washington, 
visiting his grave many years after his death, 
sighed as he looked upon it, and exclaimed, " There 
lies the brave de Kalb, the generous stranger, who 
came from a distant land to fight our battles, and to 
water with his blood the tree of Liberty. Would 
to God he had lived to share with us in its fruits ! " 
At Savannah Lafayette united in the same service 
which was performed to the memory of Greene and 
Pulaski. 



OP WASHINGTON. 199 

At Charlestown. — On the 17th of June, La- 
fayette witnessed the laying of the corner-stone of 
Bunker Hill Monument. He was the only sur- 
viving major-general of the revolution who was 
present at the time. Col. Francis K. Huger par- 
ticipated in the ceremonies — the man who, when 
a lad, walked with Lafayette over his father's 
grounds, and who, some thirty years before the 
17th of June, risked his life in attempting to aid 
Lafayette in his escape from the Castle of Olmutz. 
The people of Charlestown not only welcomed 
Huger to their hospitalities, but gave him a seat by 
the side of Lafayette in the carriage which moved 
in the procession, and also one near him at the 
festive board, and also expressed their highest grati- 
tude to him for the service which he rendered in 
attempting to aid Lafayette in his escape from Ol- 
mutz. 

At Kaskaskia. — During Lafayette's tour he 
paused a short time at this place, where no prepar- 
ations had been made for his reception. An affect- 
ing incident occurred at the time, as follows : Cu- 
riosity induced one of his companions to go out and 
look upon an Indian encampment, a short distance 
from the town. He there met with an educated 
Indian woman, who spoke the French language 
tolerably well, and expressed a desire to see Lafayette 
and to show him a relic which she always car- 
ried with her, and which was " very dear to her." 
She desired to show it to Lafayette, as proof of the 



200 THE MEMORY 

veneration with which his name was regarded 
among their tribes. It was a letter written by La- 
fayette in 1778, and addressed to her father, Panis- 
ciowa, a chief of one of the six nations. This letter 
expressed the hearty thanks of Lafayette for the 
faithful services of that chief in the American 
cause. 

The name of this only child of the old chief was 
Mary, who, at the decease of her mother, was placed 
under the care of an American agent, by whom she 
was instructed and kindly treated. She became a 
Christian. As she was walking out in the forest, 
about five years after, an Indian warrior informed 
her that her father was dying, and wished to see 
her. She immediately started off, traveled all 
night, and in the morning reached his hut, which 
was situated in a narrow valley. As she came to 
his bed-side, he took from his pouch a paper wrap- 
ped in a dry skin, and gave it to her, with a charge 
to preserve it as a precious gift, saying : " It is a 
powerful charm to interest the pale faces in your 
favor. I received it from a great French warrior, 
whom the English dreaded as much as the Amer- 
icans loved him, and with whom I fought in my 
youth." The chief died the next day. Mary re- 
turned to her white friends, and soon after married 
the young warrior, who was her father's friend and 
companion. She had the pleasure of showing the 
letter to Lafayette, who heard her touching story 
with great respect and with deep feeling. 



OF WASHINGTON. 201 

At Nashville — Lafayette was received with the 
same demonstrations of joy as at other places. 
There had come from different parts of New York 
about forty officers and soldiers of the Revolution. 
Among the number was an aged man who had 
traveled one hundred and fifty miles. Taking La- 
fayette by the hand, he says : " I have come to see 
the young general. I have had two happy days in 
my life — one when I landed with you on the 
American coast, in 1777, and to-day when I see 
your face again. I have lived long enough." His 
name was Haguy, a German. He embarked in the 
same vessel with Lafayette for this country, and 
served under him during the whole war. 

An Accident. — During Lafayette's tour in the 
West, he and his associates were conveyed to 
Louisville in a steamer. As they were passing up 
the Ohio, in a very dark night, the steamer struck 
a snag, when an indescribable scene of dismay and 
confusion pervaded the passengers. The boat be- 
came a total wreck, and it was almost a miracle 
that a single life was saved. The boat was instantly 
launched from the steamer, and such was the anx- 
iety felt for the life of Lafayette, that the passengers 
insisted, though much against his own will, on 
placing him first on board the boat. In a few min- 
utes he and a few of his friends were safely landed 
on shore. 

George Washington Lafayette was the last per- 
son who left the steamer, and whose valuable ser- 
13 



202 THE MEMORY 

vices drew from the captain the following remark : 
" He must often have been shipwrecked, for he has 
acted to-night as if he was accustomed to such ad- 
ventures." The passengers and crew being all 
landed on shore, they took shelter under some trees. 
There came up a heavy rain, and some of them 
were half naked. They soon kindled up fires by 
the aid of brush-wood gathered from the forest ; and 
here, in every kind of costume, they made them- 
selves as comfortable as possible till morning dawn- 
ed, when a boat from Louisville appeared, bound 
down the river. One of the proprietors being on 
board, gave directions to take all the passengers 
and crew, and return with them to Louisville. 

Red Jacket. — This old chief of the Seneca tribe 
of Indians paid a visit to Lafayette while he was at 
Buffalo. They had both met in council at Fort 
Schuyler, in 1784. Red Jacket, in conversation 
with the general, referred to that council, when the 
latter asked ; " Where is the young warrior who 
opposed the burying of the tomahawk ?" " He is 
here before you," replied the chief. " Ah ! I see," 
replied the general ; " time has changed us. We 
were once young and active." "Ah!" said the 
chief, *' time has made less change on you than on 
me," as he uncovered his head and exhibited his 
entire baldness. The general wore a wig, and, not 
wishing to deceive the Indian, took it from his 
head, at not a little amusement to the old Indian 
chief. 



OF WASHINGTON. 203 

Incident at Utica. — When Lafayette was leav- 
ing this place, and receiving the farewells from the 
multitude assembled at the wharf, a tall, stout In- 
dian, covered with grotesque ornaments, which left 
no doubt that he was a son of the forest, rushed 
through the crowd, and made signs for the boat to 
tarry. The captain not deeming it expedient to 
stop the boat, the Indian hastened towards a bridge 
beyond the boat, and there waited her coming. — 
When the boat came near enough, he leaped upon 
the deck, and cried out, '' Kayoula! where is Kay- 
oula ? " Lafayette being pointed out to him, he 
grasped him by the hand, saying : " I am the son. 
of Wekchekata, who loved you and followed you to 
your own country after the great war. Lafayette 
talked with him for a moment, and gave him a 
present, when the young chief sprang from the 
deck to the shore, a distance of ten feet. 



VISITS THE TOMB OP WASHINGTON. 

Among the incidents of Lafayette's tour was his 
visit to the tomb of Washington. His arrival there 
was announced by the firing of cannon, which 
brought to his memory the din of war, — the scenes 
of the Revolution, — when he, with the lifeless 
chieftain, were active in battle. As he stood beside 
the consecrated ground and amidst the solemn still- 
ness of the place, he descended alone into the tomb 
with his head uncovered. There he remained alone 



204 THE MEMORY 

for some time — the living aged veteran communing 
with the ilhistrious dead. He returned with his 
face bathed in tears, and, taking his son and Levas- 
seur, the secretary, by the hand, led them into the 
tomb. He could not speak, but pointed mutely to 
the coffin of Washington. They knelt reverently 
by it, kissed it, and, rising, threw themselves into 
the arms of Lafayette, and for a few moments wept 
in silence. He was there presented, by the hand of 
Mr. Custis, with an appropriate address, with a 
ring containing a portion of the hair of his departed 
friend, and other memorials of the *' Father of his 
Country." 



PARTING WITH AMERICA. 

Lafayette had traveled during his last visit to 
America, in less than four months, over five thou- 
sand miles. The time which he had allotted for his 
visit passed away, attended with joyful receptions 
at every place, where he received the homage of a 
free and grateful people. He enjoyed his lust fete 
at the house of President Adams, in Washington, 
on the 6th of September, 1825, being the anniver- 
sary of his birthday. The farewell address from 
the President, in behalf of the American people, 
was truly affecting, and closed with the following 
pathetic words : — 

" You are ours by that unshaken sentiment of 
gratitude for your services Avhich is a precious por- 



OF WASHINGTON. 205 

tion of our inheritance ; ours by that tie of love, 
stronger than death, which has linked your name 
for the endless ages of time with the name of 
Washington. 

" At the painful moment of parting from you we 
take comfort in the thought that, wherever you may 
be, to the last pulsation of your heart, our country 
will ever be present to your affections; and a 
cheering consolation assures us that we are not 
called to sorrow — most of all, that we shall see your 
face no more. We shall indulge the pleasing antici- 
pation of beholding our friend again. In the 
name of the whole people of the United States, I 
bid you a reluctant and affectionate farewell." 

To this parting address Lafayette replied in a 
strain of eloquence never to be forgotten. 

On the same day he embarked on board the 
Brandy vvine,=^ which had been finished and manned 
to convey him to his native country. The next 
morning she weighed anchor, and unfurled her sails 
to the breeze at the head of the River. As 
the frigate left the shore he gazed upon this land of 
liberty for the last time. While the steamer was 
passing down the river, Lafayette being at dinner, 
it was observed that the band changed its lively 
strains of music to the plaintive notes of Pleyel's 
hymn. Lafayette hearing it, announced, *' We 
are opposite Mount Vernon," left the table, and, 

* This frigate was upon the stocks when Lafayette arrived in 
this country, and was finished with a riew of conveying home 
the nation's guest. 



206 THE MEMORY 

ascending to the deck, looked towards the resting 
place of Washington, until the twilight shadows 
and the distance of the vessel closed the scene. He 
arrived at Havre, October 4th, and was again greet- 
ed by the people of his country with a hearty wel- 
come; and, as he drew near to La Grange, his 
tenants flocked around him, like affectionate chil- 
dren around a parent, and breathed a fervent wish 
that he would never leave them again. 



DEATH OF LAFAYETTE. 

The character of Lafayette is exhibited in the 
details of his career through a long and truly pat- 
riotic life. We cannot but admire his self-sacrific- 
ing spirit, and praise the wisdom and courage in 
legislative council, and which aided in carrying a 
nation through successive revolutionary scenes ; 
and also that disinterested patriotism which marked 
his whole life. The close of his pilgrimage was 
drawing nigh. After resigning his command in 
the National Guards, he retired to La Grange, with 
the sweet reflection that anarchy and despotism had 
come to an end ; and there, in the capacity of a 
legislator, he remained in the enjoyment of quiet 
life till his death. 

On the 2d of February, 1834, overcome by fatigue 
and exposure by attending the funeral of a young 
friend, he was attacked with a disease to which he 
was predisposed. Having recovered from this at- 



OP WASHINGTON. 207 

tack insomuch as to be able to receive his friends, 
he ventured to take his usual rides, and continued 
them till, on the 9ih of May, being exposed to a 
sudden thunder storm and a cold wind, a relapse 
followed, and for eleven days he experienced severe 
sufferings. On the third day before his decease, 
having some doubts of his recovery, he appeared to 
be in silent thought, when he said : " What would 
you have ? Life is like the flame of a lamp : when 
the oil is out the light is extinguished, and all is 
over.^' 

A short time before breathing his last, he opened 
his eyes and fixed them with a look of affection on 
his children, as if to bless them and bid them fare- 
well. " He pressed my hand," says one of his at- 
tending physicians, " and drew in a deep and 
lengthened breath, which was immediately followed 
by a last sigh." Supported by his son George 
Washington, he fell into his arms and died, being 
in his seventy-seventh year. " We would," says 
one, " that we might catch in these closing scenes 
the evidences of a Christian faith. Lafayette needed 
the cheering hopes of heaven to gild his pathway 
to the sepulchre, without which all other virtues are 
dim and powerless." 

He died at his hotel in Paris, May 21st, 1834. 
His decease threw a gloom over that gay city and 
throughout the entire nation of France. The bells 
of all France and of all nations tolled a mournful 
requiem, and his character was made the theme of 
eloquent orations by the most eminent statesmen. 



208 THE MEMORY 



THE WIFE OF LAFAYETTE. 

Lafayette's introduction to Washington was the 
commencement of an acquaintance between these 
two great men, which resulted in a lasting friendship 
between the two families. 

The wife of Lafayette shared in the hatred which 
her husband ever felt towards oppression, and with 
him endured sufferings almost to death while shut 
up in the prison walls of Olmutz. Madame de 
Stael has truly remarked that the history of female 
virtue and female heroism presents nothing more 
rare in excellence than the life and character of 
NoAiLLES Lafayette. 

It is not our purpose to sketch the character of 
this woman, but only to introduce her relation to 
Washington, as the friend of her beloved partner. 
Her virtues shone through all her life. Possessing a 
retiring and amiable disposition, and adorned with 
those ornaments which give beauty and character 
to woman, she was admirably qualified for the du- 
ties of domestic life. She loved the quiet retreat 
of home, and maintained in the family circle the 
character of an affectionate wife and a devoted 
mother. 

While her husband was confined within the prison 
walls of Olmutz, a prisoner to a Prussian monarch, 
without a single comfort to cheer his loneliness, it 
was then that the heroic devotion of the wife of La- 
fayette was conspicuously developed. Despotism 



OF WASHINGTON. 209 

reigned in Austria, and the Marquis was imprisoned 
for no real offence. Together with his friends Hu- 
ger and Bohlman, placed within the same castle, 
and occupying cells in the same corridor, they were 
guarded against all intercourse with each other and 
all knowledge of each other's condition. As they 
entered their cells, it was declared to each of them 
that " they would never come out alive ; that they 
would never see any thing but what was enclosed 
within the four walls of their respective cells ; that 
they would never be suffered to learn any thing of 
the situation of their families, or even to know of 
each other's existence." 

The dungeon walls were twelve feet thick, and 
with two doors, one of iron and the other of wood, 
nearly two feet thick, covered with bolts and bars. 
In a cell of eight or ten paces deep, by six or eight 
wide, furnished with an old worm eaten table and a 
hard bed of rotton straw, without a cheering voice 
to greet his ear, the hero of France was confined, to 
eke out a miserable existence. 

The imprisonment of Lafayette was a terrible 
calamity to his family. His wife, true to her do- 
mestic relations and to her pledges of filial affection, 
determined to suffer with him or to procure his re- 
lease. She seemed to rise above all personal com- 
fort, and regarded not the danger to which she ex- 
posed herself, under the " Reign of Terror," in at- 
tempting to procure his liberty. She acted as one 
who would cheerfully have laid down her life for 
the redemption of her husband from bondage. She 



210 THE MEMORY 

addressed the Prussian monarch with feelings best 
described in her own language : — 

"He in whose favor I implore the mercy of your 
Majesty has never known crime. At the moment 
he was taken prisoner, he was crossing the Low 
Countries to take refuge in America. I may be 
blind to the character of a beloved husband ; but I 
cannot deceive myself in being persuaded that your 
Majesty will grant the prayer of an unhappy 
woman." 

This petition was made by her to the Emperor 
after being released from a long captivity, which 
she, with her daughters, suffered under the pro- 
scriptions in France. Having sent her son George 
to this country, to be placed under the care of 
Washington, she started for Germany, to see what 
could be done for her husband. In the meantime 
she wrote the following 



LETTER TO WASHINGTON. 

This letter, dated 1792, contained, first, an ac- 
count of the situation of Lafayette and his famil}^. 
She then says : " He was taken by the troops of 
the Emperor, although the King of Prussia retains 
him a prisoner in his dominions ; and, while he 
suffers this persecution from the enemies without, 
the faction which reigns within keeps me a hostage 
at one hundred and twenty leagues from the capital. 
Judge, then, at what distance I am from him. In 



OF WASHINGTON. 211 

this abyss of misery the idea of owing to the United 
States and to Washington the life and liberty of M. 
de Lafayette kindles a ray of hope in my heart. I 
hope every thing from the goodness of the people, 
with whom he has set an example of that liberty of 
which he is now made a victim. And shall I dare 
speak what I hope ? I would ask of them, through 
you, for an envoy, who shall go to reclaim him, in 
the name of the Republic of the United Slates, 
wherever he may be found, and who shall be au- 
thorized to make, with the power in whose charge 
he may be placed, all necessary engagements for 
his relief and for taking him to the United States, 
even if he is there to be guarded as a captive. If 
his wife and children could be comprised in this 
mission, it is easy to judge how happy it would be 
for her and them ; but if this would in the least 
degree retard or embarrass the mission, we will de- 
fer still longer the happiness of a reunion. May 
Heaven deign to bless the confidence with which it 
has inspired me ! I hope my request is not a rash 
one. Accept the homage of the sentiments which 
have dictated this letter, as well as that of attach- 
ment and tender respect." 

Washington was unable to comply with this re- 
quest, but wrote an answer, kindly assuring her of 
his sympathy, and staling that, while he could not 
commit his official character or involve the country 
in embarrassments, yet he would exert his individ- 
ual influence in restoring the Marquis to his family 
and to freedom. 



212 THE MEMORY 



THE MEETING IN PRISON. 

Passing under the name of Motier, and with 
the protection of American passports, the wife of 
Lafayette, accompanied by her daughters, set out 
for Germany. Arriving at Vienna, she obtained an 
interview with the Emperor Francis I., nephew of 
the Queen of France, Maria Antoinette. To him 
she made her plea with that power and feeling that 
no one could employ but a wife pleading for her 
husband in bonds. He told her that his " hands 
were tied," and it was impossible to grant her re- 
quest; but gave her and her daughters the liberty 
of sharing his sufferings within the prison walls, 
but with this fact for her to consider : That, " if 
they entered the prison, they might never come forth 
alive ; and they were to take with them nothing 
that would in the least degree minister to their 
comfort, or alleviate the suffering and gloom which 
pervade the walls of an Austrian dungeon." These 
restrictions well become the inquisition of the Bas- 
tile. But, with all their severity, they were ac- 
cepted. They received their passports, and hastened 
to the distance of one hundred and fifty miles, when 
they — the wife and daughters of Lafayette — stood 
before the gate of Olmutz prison. In a few moments 
the prevot turned the key and conducted them into 
the gloomy cell of the lonely captive. Lafayette 
was then fearing that his next visitor might be the 
executioner to lead him forth to the scaffold and the 



OF WASHINGTON. 213 

axe. But, instead of him, he was greeted with the 
smiles and tears of his wife and lovely daughters. 
Anastasia, the eldest, was sixteen, and Virginia, 
thirteen years of age. 

Confined in separate cells for eighteen hours of 
each day, and were allowed to pass only six hours 
with their father in his cell, they remained there, 
with their mother, till the year of his release. 

Madame Lafayette was worn down by previous 
suffering during her confinement for a year and a 
half in the Tribunal at Paris. By the earnest re- 
quest of her husband and children she was induced 
to ask permission to spend a week at Vienna, where 
she might, by the aid of pure air and wholesome 
regimen, refresh her almost exhausted nature. This 
request remained unnoticed for two months, when, 
after grave deliberation among the lords at Vienna, 
a permission was granted her, on the condition 
" that she should never appear in the capital nor re- 
turn to theprison." Such conditions were promptly 
met by the faithful wife. She declared to the offi- 
cer who came with the message that, " rather than 
leave the prison on such terms, she would remain 
there, even should she be called to die in the loath- 
someness of her captivity. In a letter to the Em- 
peror in reply to the message, she writes : — 

" I will not expose myself to the horror of a new 
separation. Whatever may be the state of my 
health, or the inconvenience of this residence to my 
daughters, we shall gratefully avail ourselves of his 



214 THE MEMORY 

imperial Majesty's goodness in permitting us to 
share my husband's captivity in all its details. 

NoAiLLES Lafayette." 

This heroic woman remained there during the 
whole captivity, without ever presenting another 
request for liberty or comforts of any kind. She 
preferred the sad condition of her lot to the horrors 
of a painful separation from the husband of her 
youth. 

But the family of Lafayette were not destined to 
perish in a dungeon. The day of their liberation 
came. On the 23d of September, 1797, they were 
conducted from their gloomy cells into the light of 
day. Escorted to Hamburg, they received their 
formal discharge from the American Consul, John 
Parish, Esq., whose house was open for reception. 
He says : " An immense crowd of people announced 
their arrival. The streets were lined, and my 
house was soon filled with them. A lane was 
formed to let the prisoners pass to my room. La- 
fayette led the way, and was followed by his infirm 
lady and two daughters. He flew into my arms. 
His wife and daughters clung to me. A silence — 
an expressive silence — took place. It was broken 
by an exclamation of ' My friend ! my dearest 
friend ! my deliverer ! See the work of your gen- 
erosity ! ' " ^ 

Madame Lafayette was hardly able to support 

* The American Consul had long been devoted to the escape 
of the Lafayette family. 



OF WASHINGTON. 215 

herself. Weak and feeble, she was supported on 
the arm of Mr. Parish, bathed in tears, as her two 
lovely daughters stood by her, hand in hand. It 
was an affecting scene. The Marchioness was 
placed on a sofa. She uttered a few words, and 
joined the Marquis in expressions of gratitude for 
their deliverance. 



THE CLOSING SCENE. 

In consequence of her confinement in Austria, 
the health of Madame Lafayette was greatly im- 
paired. Disease had gradually wasted her consti- 
tution, and ultimately brought her to a premature 
grave. Lafayette discovered in her pale cheek, 
dim eye, and less elastic step the evidence of a 
speedy separation from her who had endured the 
most cruel sufferings on his own account. On the 
24th of December, 1807, she gave him her last 
smile, bade him farewell, and, offering her last 
prayer that she might have the " peace of God," 
she gently fell asleep in death. M. de Segur says : 
" She was a model of heroism, and indeed of every 
virtue. She died surrounded by a numerous family, 
who offered up earnest prayers for her preservation. 
When unable to speak, a smile played upon her 
lips at the sight of her husband and children. De- 
voted to her domestic duties, which were her only 
pleasure, adorned by every virtue, pious, modest, 
charitable, severe to herself, indulgent to others. 



216 THE MEMORY 

she was one of the few whose pure reputation has 
received fresh lustre from the misfortunes of the 
Revolution. She was the happiness of her family, 
the friend of the poor, the consoler of the afflicted, 
an ornament to her country, and an honor to her 
sex." 

The death of this lady was not a transient afflic- 
tion to Lafayette. In a letter to a friend, he says : 
" I have neither the power nor the wish to struggle 
against the calamity which has befallen me, or 
rather to surmount the deep affliction which I shall 
carry with me to the grave." Another friend, who 
was his constant attendant during his last illness, 
says : " I surprised him kissing her portrait, which 
he always wore suspended to his neck in a small 
gold medallion. Around the portrait were the 
words, ' I am yours^ and on the back was this in- 
scription : ' I was then a gentle companion to you. 
In that case, bless me.' Her private apartment was 
ever held sacred, and preserved in the same state 
as when she died. To this room her bereaved 
husband daily repaired, alone or in company with 
his children, to renew his homage to her memory." 



OP WASHINGTON, 217 



WASHINGTON'S LAST DAYS AND 
PRIVATE LIFE. 



When Washington left the quiet repose of Mount 
Vernon to assume the responsibilities of the Presi- 
dency of the United States, he was welcomed to 
the chair of state by the united voice of a grateful 
people ; and, when he returned from the office, he 
was followed to the same quiet retreat with bless- 
ings from the people he devotedly served. Here 
he was employed in his accustomed and favorite 
pursuits. He gave much attention to his domestic 
affairs and agricultural occupations, and endeavored 
to make happy those around him and those who 
visited him during the remainder of his life. 

He was accustomed to early rising, and often 
before the dawn of day lighted his candle and en- 
tered his study, where he spent some time alone, as 
is believed, in devotional duties. This was a sacred 
place ; and all who knew Washington's habits were 
satisfied that his early hours were hallowed time. 
Having finished his morning duties, he rang for 
his boots, and walked or rode out to attend to his 
morning occupations. His house was open to all 
visitors, with whom he spent many pleasant hours 
in agreeable and profitable conversation. He was 
much interested in his old age in the innocent 
14 



218 THE MEMORY 

gambols of children, and enjoyed with them a half 
hour's recreation from his usual avocations. 



DESCRIPTION OF MOUNT VERNON. 

Mr. Weld during his travels in the United States 
visited the home of Washington, and describes it 
as it appeared at that time when Washington had 
retired from public life : — 

" Nine miles below this place, {i. e. Alexandria,) 
on the banks of the Potomac, stands Mount Vernon, 
the seat of General Washington ; the way to it, 
however, from Alexandria, by land, is considerably 
farther, on account of the numerous creeks which 
fall into the Potomac, and the mouths of which it is 
impossible to pass near to. 

Very thick woods remain standing within four or 
five miles of the place ; the roads through them are 
very bad, and so many of them cross one another 
in different directions, that it is a matter of very 
great difficulty to find out the right one. I set out 
from Alexandria with a gentleman who thought 
himself perfectly well acquainted with the way ; 
had he been so, there was ample time to have 
reached Mount Vernon before the close of the day, 
but night overtook us wandering about in the woods. 
We did not perceive the vestige of a human being 
to set us right, and we were preparing to pass the 
night in the carriage, when luckily a light appeared 



OF WASHINGTON. ' 219 

at some distance through the trees ; it was from a 
small farm-house, the only one in the way for sev- 
eral miles ; and having made our way to it, partly 
in the carriage, partly on foot, we hired a negro for 
a guide, who conducted us to the place of our desti- 
nation in about an hour. The next morning I 
heard of a gentleman, who, a day or two preceding, 
had been from ten o'clock in the morning till four 
in the afternoon on horseback, unable to find out 
the place, although within three or four miles of it 
the whole time. 

The Mount is a high part of the bank of the 
river, which rises very abruptly about two hundred 
feet above the level of the water. The river before 
it is three miles wide, and, on the opposite side, it 
forms a bay about the same breadth, which extends 
for a considerable distance up the country. This, 
at first sight, appears to be a continuation of the 
river ; but the Potomac takes a very sudden turn 
to the left, two or three miles above the house, and 
is quickly lost to the view. Downwards, to the 
right, there is a prospect of it for twelve miles. 
The Maryland shore, on the opposite side, is beau- 
tifully diversified with hills, which are mostly cov- 
ered with w^ood ; in many places, however, little 
patches of cultivated ground appear, ornamented 
with houses. The scenery altogether is most de- 
lightful. The house, which stands about sixty 
yards from the edge of the Mount, is of wood, cut 
and painted so as to resemble hewn stone. The 
rear is towards the river, at which side is a portico 



220 THE MEMORY 

of ninety-six feet in length, supported by eight pil- 
lars. The front is uniform, and at a distance looks 
tolerably well. The dwelling house is in the 
centre, and communicates with the wings on either 
side by means of covered ways, running in a curved 
direction. Behind these wings, on the one side, 
are the different offices belonging to the house and 
also to the farm ; and on the other, the cabins for 
the slaves. In front, the breadth of the whole 
building, is a lawn, with a gravel walk round it, 
planted with trees, and separated by hedges on 
either side from the farm-yard and garden. As for 
the garden, it wears exactly the appearance of a 
nursery, and, with every thing about the place, in- 
dicates that more attention is paid to profit than to 
pleasure. The ground in the rear of the house is 
also laid out in a lawn, and the declivity of the 
Mount, towards the water, in a deer park. 

The rooms in the house are very small, excepting 
one, which has been built since the close of the 
war for the purpose of entertainments. All of these 
are very plainly furnished, and in many of them 
the furniture is dropping to pieces. Indeed, the 
close attention which General Washington has ever 
paid to public affairs having obliged him to reside 
principally at Philadelphia, Mount Vernon has con- 
sequently suffered very materially. The house and 
offices, with every other part of the place, are out 
of repair, and the old part of the building is in such 
a perishable state, that I have been told he wishes 
he had pulled it entirely down at first, and built a 



OF WASHINGTON. 221 

new house, instead of making any addition to the 
old one. The grounds in the neighborhood are 
cultivated, but the principal farms are at the dis- 
tance of two or three miles. 

As almost every stranger going through the 
country makes a point of visiting Mount Vernon, 
a person is kept at the house during General 
Washington's absence, whose sole business it is to 
attend to strangers. Immediately on our arrival 
every care was taken of our horses, beds were 
prepared, and an excellent supper provided for us." 



ILLNESS AND DEATH OF WASHINGTON. 

General Washington had been destined to live 
for others ; and it now appeared to be the will of 
Heaven that, so soon as the circumstances of 
his country enabled it to dispense with the 
presence of their founder and their benefactor, he 
should be summoned away from the scenes of earth, 
so that the innocent indulgences of the evening of 
his days might not constitute an exception to a life 
of such entire self-devotion. 

On Friday, December the 13th, 1799, while su- 
perintending some improvements at Mount Vernon, 
he was exposed to a slight rain, which wetted his 
neck and hair; some slight precautions against cold 
were immediately taken, but in the course of the 
night he was attacked with acute inflammation of 
the windpipe, by which respiration was rendered 



222 THE MEMORY 

laborious, and^swallowing difficult and painful. — 
Without medical advice, he determined upon losing 
blood ; and for this purpose sent for some person 
accustomed to the use of the lancet, and ordered 
him to take fourteen ounces from the arm. The 
family physician, Dr. Craik arrived at eleven o'clock 
on Saturday morning, and, perceiving the critical 
nature of the case, recommended an immediate con- 
sultation, and Doctors Dick and Brown were called 
in. This measure, however, was unavailing. From 
the first indication of the disease. General Wash- 
ington was convinced that the great enemy was 
approaching. He submitted to medical treatment 
without encouraging the slightest expectation of re- 
lief; and some hours before his death expressed, 
with great difficulty, his wish that it might be dis- 
continued. It is, doubtless, owing to the extreme 
difficulty with which he articulated, that we possess 
so few of the last words of the dying hero. A few 
hours before his decease, he informed his attendants 
that his affairs were in good order ; that he had 
made his will, and that his public business was but 
two days in arrear. One more precious declara- 
tion, however, remains to us, transmitted to posterity 
by the physician to whom it was addressed. It is 
characterized by the same simplicity which, through 
life, had invested every part of his character with 
majesty and beauty. " Doctor," said he, " I am 
dying, and have been dying for a long time ; but I 
am not afraid to die." The whole history of Gen- 
eral \^'ashington's life justifies our denominating 



OP WASHINGTON. 223 

this the language of submission ; but that history also 
affords us good ground for believing that it was the 
language of Christian heroism, the natural expres- 
sion of a heart whose ease was not derived from 
self-complacency nor from philosophical speculation, 
but which drew from the Rock of evangelical truth 
the living stream of " peace, which passeth under- 
standing," At half-past eleven o'clock, on Satur- 
day evening, after an illness of twenty-four hours, 
he closed his eyes in death, December 14th, 1799, 
leaving a nation to mourn his loss, to honor his life, 
and generations to cherish his memory through all 
time. The committee appointed by Congress to 
devise means of expressing the national feelings, 
recommended that a marble monument be erected 
by the United States at the city of Washington, to 
commemorate the great events of his military and 
political life. The oration delivered on the occasion 
at Washington, by Henry Lee, was heard with pro- 
found attention and with deep interest. 

" How sleep the brave who sink to rest, 
By all their country's wishes blest ! 
When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, 
Eeturns to deck their hallowed mould ; 
She there shall dress a sweeter sod 
Than Fancy's feet have ever trod. 

By fairy hands their knell is rung : 
By forms unseen their dirge is sung ! 
There Honor comes, a pilgrim gray, 
To bless the turf that wraps their clay ; 
And Freedom shall awhile repair, 
To dwell a weeping hermit there." 



224 THE MEMORY 

THE GRAVE OF WASHINGTON. 

Disturb not his slumbers ; let Washington sleep 
'Neath the boughs of the willow that over him 

weep ; 
His arm is unnerved, but his deeds remain bright 
As the stars in the dark vaulted heaven at night. 
0, wake not the hero; his battles are o'er ; 
Let him rest undisturbed on Potomac's fair shore ; 
On the river's green border so flowery drest, 
With the hearts he loved fondly, let Washington 

rest. 



Awake not his slumbers; tread lightly around; 
'T is the grave of a freeman, — 't is Liberty's 

mound ! 
Thy name is immortal ; our freedom ye won, 
Brave sire of Columbia, our own Washington. 
O, wake not the hero ; his battles are o'er ; 
Let him rest, calmly rest, on his dear native shore. 
While the stars and the stripes of our country shall 

wave 
O'er the land that can boast of a Washington's 

grave. 

Marshal S. Pike. 



OF WASHINGTON. 225 



Washington's will. 



I, GEORGE WASHINGTON, of Mount Ver- 
non, a citizen of the United States, and lately Pres- 
ident of the same, do make, ordain, and declare 
this instrument, which is written with my own 
hand,"^ and every page thereof subscribed with my 
name, to be my last will and testament, revoking 
all others. Imprimis. — All rny debts, of which 
there are but few, and none of magnitude, are to 
be punctually and speedily paid, and the legacies 
hereinafter bequeathed are to be discharged as soon 
as circumstances will permit, and in the manner 
directed. 

Item. — To my dearly beloved wife, Martha 
Washington, I give and bequeath the use, profit, 
and benefit of my whole estate, real and personal, 
for the term of her natural life, except such parts 
thereof as are specially disposed of hereafter. My 
improved lot, in the town of Alexandria, situated on 
Pitt and Cameron streets, I give to her and her 
heirs for ever; as I also do my household and 
kitchen furniture, of every sort and kind, with the 
effects and groceries which may be on hand at the 
time of my decease, to be used and disposed of as 
she may think proper. 

Item. — Upon the decease of my wife, it is my 

* In the original manuscript, George Washington's name was 
written at the bottom of every page. 



226 THE MEMORY 

will and desire that all the slaves which I hold in 
my own right shall receive their freedom. To 
emancipate them during her life, would, though 
earnestly wished by me, be attended with such in- 
superable difficulties, on account of their intermix- 
ture by marriage with the dower negroes, as to ex- 
cite the most painful sensations, if not disagreeable 
consequences, from the latter, while both descrip- 
tions are in the occupancy of the same proprietor ; 
it not being in my power, under the tenure by 
which the dower negroes are held, to manumit 
them. And whereas, among those who will receive 
freedom according to this devise, there may be 
some, who, from old age or bodily infirmities, and 
others, who, on account of their infancy, that will 
be unable to support themselves, it is my will and 
desire that all who come under the first and second 
description shall be comfortably clothed and fed by 
my heirs while they live ; and that such of the 
latter description as have no parents living, or, if 
living, are unable or unwilling to provide for them, 
shall be bound by the court until they shall arrive 
at the age of twenty-five years ; and in cases where 
no record can be produced, whereby their ages can 
be ascertained, the judgment of the court, upon its 
own view of the subject, shall be adequate and 
final. The negroes thus bound are (by their mas- 
ters or mistresses) to be taught to read and write, 
and to be brought up to some useful occupation, 
agreeably to the laws of the Commonwealth of 
Virginia, providing for the support of orphan and 



OF WASHINGTON. 227 

Other poor children. And I do hereby expressly 
forbid the sale or transportation, out of the said 
Commonwealth, of any slave I may be possessed 
of, under any pretence whatsoever. And I do, 
moreover, most pointedly and most solemnly enjoin 
it upon my executors hereafter named, or the sur- 
vivor of them, to see that this clause respecting 
slaves, and every part thereof, be religiously ful- 
filled at the epoch at which it is directed to take 
place, without evasion, neglect, or delay, after the 
crops which may then be on the ground are har- 
vested, particularly as it respects the aged and in- 
firm ; seeing that a regular and permanent fund be 
established for their support, as long as there are 
subjects requiring it; not trusting to the uncertain 
provision to be made by individuals. And to my 
mulatto man, William, calling himself William Lee, 
I give immediate freedom, or if he should prefer it, 
(on account of the accidents which have befallen 
him, and which have rendered him incapable of 
walking, or of any active employment,) to remain 
in the situation he now is, it shall be optional in 
him to do so ; in either case, however, I allow him 
an annuity of thirty dollars, during his natural 
life, which shall be independent of the victuals and 
clothes he has been accustomed to receive, if he 
choose the last alternative ; but in full with his 
freedom, if he prefers the first ; and this I give him 
as a testimony of my sense of his attachment to me, 
and for his faithful services during the revolutionary 
war. 



228 THE MEMORY 

Item. — To the trustees (governors, or by what- 
soever other name they may be designated,) of the 
Academy, in the town of Alexandria, I give and 
bequeath, in trust, four thousand dollars, or in other 
words, twenty of the shares which I hold in the 
bank of Alexandria, towards the support of a Free 
School, established at, and annexed to, the said 
Academy, for the purpose of educating such orphan 
children, or the children of such other poor and 
indigent persons, as are unable to accomplish it 
with their own means ; and who, in the judgment 
of the trustees of the said seminary, are best enti- 
tled to the benefit of this donation. The aforesaid 
twenty shares I give and bequeath in perpetuity; 
the dividends only of which are to be drawn for, 
and applied by the said trustees, for the time being, 
for the uses above-mentioned ; the stock to remain 
entire and untouched, unless indications of failure 
of the said bank should be apparent, or a discon- 
tinuance thereof should render a removal of this 
fund pecessary. In either of these cases, the 
amount of the stock here devised is to be vested in 
some other bank, or public institution, whereby the 
interest may with regularity and certainty be drawn 
and applied as above ; and, to prevent misconcep- 
tion, my meaning is, and is hereby declared to be, 
that these twenty shares are in lieu of, and not in 
addition to, the thousand pounds given by a missive 
letter some years ago; in consequence whereof, an 
annuity of fifty pounds has since been paid towards 
the support of this institution. 



OP WASHINGTON. 229 

Item. — Whereas by a law of the Commonwealth 
of Virginia, enacted in the year 1785, the legisla- 
ture thereof was pleased, as an evidence of its ap- 
probation of the services I had rendered the public 
during the Revolution, and partly, I believe, in con- 
sideration of my having suggested the vast advan- 
tages which the community would derive from the 
extension of its inland navigation under legislative 
patronage, to present me with one hundred shares, 
of one hundred dollars each, in the incorporated 
company, established for the purpose of extending 
the navigation of James River from the tide water 
to the mountains ; and also with fifty shares, of 
one hundred pounds sterling each, in the corpora- 
tion of another company, likewise established for 
the similar purpose of opening the navigation of 
the River Potomac, from the tide water to Fort 
Cumberland ; the acceptance of which, although 
the offer was highly honorable and grateful to my 
feelings, was refused, as inconsistent with a prin- 
ciple which I had adopted and had never departed 
from, viz., not to receive pecuniary compensation 
for any services I could render my country in its 
arduous struggle with Great Britain for its rights ; 
and because I had evaded similar propositions from 
other States in the Union. Adding to this refusal, 
however, an intimation that, if it should be the 
pleasure of the legislature to permit me to appro- 
priate the said shares to public uses, I would receive 
them on those terms with due sensibility ; and this 
it having consented to, in flattering terms, as will 



230 THE MEMORY 

appear by a subsequent law and sundry resolutions, 
in the most ample and honorable manner, I pro- 
ceed, after this recital, for the more correct under- 
standing of the case, to declare — That, as it has 
always been a source of serious regret with me to 
see the youth of these United States sent to foreign 
countries for the purpose of education, often before 
their minds were formed, or they had imbibed any 
adequate ideas of the happiness of their own ; con- 
tracting too frequently, not only habits of dissipa- 
tion and extravagance, but principles unfriendly to 
republican government and to the true and genuine 
liberties of mankind ; which thereafter are rarely 
overcome. For these reasons it has been my ar- 
dent wish to see a plan devised on a liberal scale, 
which would have a tendency to spread systematic 
ideas through all parts of this rising empire, thereby 
to do away local attachments and state prejudices, 
as far as the nature of things would, or indeed 
ought to admit, from our National Councils. Look- 
ing anxiously forward to the accomplishment of so 
desirable an object as this is, (in my estimation,) 
my mind has not been able to contemplate any plan 
more likely to effect the measures than the estab- 
lishment of a University in a central part of the 
United States, to which the youths of fortune and 
talents from all parts thereof may be sent, for the 
completion of their education, in all the branches of 
polite literature ; in arts and sciences, in acquiring 
knowledge in the principles of politics and good 
government, and, (as a matter of infinite importance 



OF WASHINGTON. 231 

in my judgment,) by associating with each other, 
and forming friendships in juvenile years, be ena- 
bled to free themselves, in a proper degree, from 
those local prejudices and habitual jealousies which 
have just been mentioned ; and which, when carried 
to excess, are never-failing sources of disquietude to 
the public mind, and pregnant of mischievous con- 
sequences to this country, under these impressions 
so fully dilated. 

Among other portions of property bequeathed by 
Washington to his relatives and friends, are men- 
tioned — 

First — Fifty shares which he held in the Poto- 
mac company towards the endowment of an Uni- 
versity, to be established within the limits of the 
District of Columbia, under the auspices of the gen- 
eral government. 

Second — One hundred shares in James River 
company, to and for the use of Liberty Hall Acad- 
emy, in the county of Rockbridge, in the Common- 
wealth of Virginia. 

Third — Grants a release from payment of money 
due to him from the estate of his deceased brother, 
Samuel Washington, which was due him on ac- 
count of the education, board, clothing, and inci- 
dental expenses (amounting to near five thousand 
dollars) of the two sons of his deceased brother. 

Fourth — Released and acquitted from the pay- 
ment of balance due him from the estate of Barthol- 
omew Dandridge, amounting to four hundred and 
twenty-five pounds. 



232 THE MEMORY 

Fifth — To his nephews, W. A. Washington, he 
bequeathed some land, and to B. "Washington his 
books, pamphlets, and some papers which related to 
his civil and military administration. 

Sixth — To the Earl of Buchan I recommit the 
" box made of the oak that sheltered the great Sir 
William Wallace, after the battle of Falkirk," pre- 
sented to me by his lordship in terms too flatter- 
ing for me to repeat, with a request " to pass it, 
on the event of my decease, to the man in my 
country who should appear to merit it best, upon 
the same conditions that have induced him to send 
it to me." 

Seventh — To his brother Charles Washington 
he gave his gold-headed cane, left him by Dr. 
Franklin in his will. To his juvenile acquaint- 
ances, Lawrence and Robert Washington, he gave 
his two gold-headed canes and one of his spy- 
glasses. To his friend Dr. Craik he gave his 
bureau and circular chair, an appendage of his 
study. To David Stuart his dressing-table and 
telescope. " To the Rev., now Bryan, Lord Fairfax, 
I give a Bible, in three large folio volumes, with 
notes, presented to me by the Rt. Rev. T. Wilson, 
Bishop of Sodor and Man. To General de Lafay- 
ette I give a pair of finely-wrought steel pistols, 
taken from the enemy in the revolutionary war. 
To my sisters-in-law Hannah Washington and Mil- 
dred Washington — to my friends Eleanor Stuart, 
Hannah Washington, of Fairfield, and Elizabeth 
Washington, of Hayfield, I give each a mournirg 



OF WASHINGTON. 233 

ring, of the value of one hundred dollars. These 
bequests are not made for the intrinsic value of 
them, but as mementos of my esteem and regard. 
To Tobias Lear I give the use of the farm which 
he now holds, in virtue of a lease from me to him 
and his deceased wife, (for and during their natural 
lives,) free from rent during his life ; at the expira- 
tion of which it is to be disposed of as is hereinafter 
directed. To Sally B. Haynie (a distant relation 
of mine) I give and bequeath three hundred dollars. 
To Sarah Green, daughter of the deceased Thomas 
Bishop, and to Ann Walker, daughter of John 
Alton, also deceased, I give each one hundred dol- 
lars, in consideration of the attachment of their 
fathers to me ; each of whom having lived nearly 
forty years in my family. To each of my nephews, 
William Augustine Washington, George Lewis, 
George Steptoe Washington, Bushrod Washington, 
and Samuel Washington, I give one of the swords, 
or cutteaux, of which I may die possessed ; and 
they are to choose in the order they are named. — 
These swords are accompanied with an injunction 
not to unsheath them for the purpose of shedding 
blood, except it be for self-defence, or in defence 
of their country and its rights ; and in the latter 
case, to keep them unsheathed, and prefer falling 
with them in their hands to the relinquishment 
thereof. 

The more important parts of his estate Washing- 
ton distributed among his relatives and to their 
heirs, as defined in the latter part of his will. 
15 



234 THE MEMORY 



WASHINGTON'S RELIGIOUS THOUGHTS. 

It is said that Washington was a great man — a 
man of genius, of great skill and foresight, of bold 
and energetic action. Was he not a good man? — 
a man of reflection, of wise council, of devotional 
habits — a man of prayer ? When Epaminondas was 
asked which was the greatest man, himself or 
Pelopidas, he replied : " Wait till we are dead." 
But the life of Washington responds to the question 
of his goodness. We have followed him through 
all the trying, perilous, suffering, private, and pub- 
lic periods of his life. We have seen him at home, 
in the cabinet, and in the field, patiently enduring 
the sufl^erings of a campaign life. We have seen 
him, in tears, parting with his mother ; at the bed- 
side of the dying; weeping over suffering humani- 
ty ; cheering the disconsolate in the hour of gloom 
and distress. We have followed him to his own 
private retreat, and heard his voice in reading and 
prayer ; and seen him kneel on the cold, frosty 
earth, in the dense forest, fervently supplicating the 
aid of the Divine One in behalf of his distressed 
country. 

Scipio was urged to heroic deeds by a false am- 
bition for- a civic crown ; Caesar won his laurels, 
and the world did him reverence ; Alexander con- 
quered kingdom after kingdom, and his end was 
accomplished on receiving a brilliant crown; Cortez 
exposed himself to great dangers, and traversed sea 



OP WASHINGTON. 235 

and land to gain a fortune ; Aurelius aimed for the 
happiness of his subjects, that he might gain their 
applause and wear a crown of earthly glory. 

These were brave generals, cunning, wise, sliill- 
ful, and successful, but whose motives, in their ex- 
ploits, were based on personal aggrandizement. — 
Arnold was a general of military talents and skill, 
whose character for awhile shone like the morning 
star. But alas, for his haughty nature ! his great 
moral defects, his want of piety and principle, his 
honor, his glory, and every noble sentiment with- 
ered away, and every noble deed was disgraced by 
his treasonable conduct. Lee was a scholar, a wit, 
a great soldier, and generous ; but for his strange 
habits — a republicanism which grew out of hatred 
to tyrants rather than a love for the people — his de- 
fective morals, his bad manners, his awful profanity 
— he periled and lost all. Hamilton was a military 
genius, a fit statesman to rule a monarchy ; but he 
sought the praise of men, and, from his sense of 
wounded honor, stood before the pistol's mouth and 
fell, leaving his friends, his family, and his country 
to mourn his untimely end. Burr, the refined, 
eloquent, and brave man, bid fair to stand in the 
high seat of his country; but, by one fatal act, he 
was disgraced, and cast out as a fallen man. We 
might mention a score of distinguished men who 
have, for the lack of that wisdom and piety which 
made Washington a great man, sacrificed every 
promising hope of usefulness. 

His favorite aphorism was in accordance with his 



236 THE MEMORY 

life. "There exists," says Washington, "in the 
economy of nature, an inseparable connection be- 
tween duty and advantage." 

Wiih a midshipman's commission in his pocket, 
and his baggage on board the vessel, a voice whis- 
pered, " Honor thy mother." His inclination was 
for the voyage, but duty to his mother changed his 
purpose. During his brother Augustine's illness he 
was devising the best means to cheer and comfort 
him. At times he would sit and read to him, hour 
after hour. And when his coughing spasms oc- 
curred, he would hold his drooping head, and wipe 
the cold sweat from his brow, and administer to his 
every want with all the patience of a Christian. 
When very young, Washington would listen to a 
father's instruction, and sit hours listening with de- 
light to the discourses of a father on the wisdom, 
perfection, and glory of the Deity as displayed in 
the harmonious works of nature, and thus prepared 
for conceiving the sublime truths of Revelation. 
He was frequently known on the Sabbath to read 
the Scriptures, and pray with the regiment when 
the chaplain of the army was absent. One of his 
aids in the French war, when on a visit to his 
marquee, says he often found him kneeling in 
prayer. Rev. Mr. Lee Massy, a rector of Wash- 
ington's parish, says " he never knew so constant 
an attendant at church," and that his reverence, 
while present, greatly aided him in his ministry. 
At his table, surrounded with guests, he did not 
forget to thank the Giver of all blessings. 



OF WASHINGTON. 237 

Judge Harrison, his secretary, says that, " when- 
ever the general could be spared from the camp on 
the Sabbath, he never failed riding out to some 
neighboring church, to join those who were in pub- 
lic worshiping the great Creator." When the 
Americans had been fired on by the British, and 
several of the Americans were killed, he was heard 
to say : " I grieve for the death of my countrymen, 
but rejoice that the British are determined to keep 
God on our side." He uttered the sentiment re- 
corded in several manuscripts of his own writing, 
that " the smiles of Heaven can never be expected 
on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of or- 
der and right, which Heaven itself has ordained." 

When chosen President of the United States by 
the unanimous voice of the people, in reply to the 
grateful acknowledgments of Congress for his past 
services, he says : " When I contemplate the inter- 
position of Providence, which was visibly manifested 
in guiding us through the Revolution, in preparing 
us for the reception of the general government, and 
in conciliating the good will of the people of Amer- 
ica towards one another after its adoption, I feel 
myself oppressed, and almost overiohelmed with a 
sense of the Divine munificence. I feel that nothing 
is due to my personal agency in all those compli- 
cated and wonderful events, except what can simply 
be attributed to the exertions of an honest zeal for 
the good of my country." 

When standing before Congress in his official 
capacity for the first tim.e, when they met to devise 



238 THE MEMORY 

means for preserving the Union of the States and 
harmony with foreign powers, and how best to se- 
cure the blessings of civil and religious liberty, "It 
would," he says, " be peculiarly improper to omit, 
in this first official act, my fervent supplications to 
that Almighty Being who rules over the universe, 
who presides in the councils of nations, and whose 
providential aids can supply every human defect, 
that His benediction may consecrate to the liberties 
and happiness of the people of the United States." 
"In tendering this homage to the Great Author of 
every public and private good, I assure myself that 
it expresses your sentiments not less than my own. 
No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore 
the invisible hand which conducts the afTairs of 
men more than the people of the United States." 
When closing this admirable address, he resorts 
once more " to the benign Parent of the human race 
in humble supplication " for His favor to the Amer- 
ican people. 

•' Of all the dispositions and habits," says Wash- 
ington, " religion is the indispensable support. — 
Volumes could not trace all its connections with 
private and public happiness. And, " whatever a 
sense of honor may do on men of refined education 
and on minds of a peculiar structure, reason and 
experience both forbid us to expect that national 
morality can prevail in exclusion of religious prin- 
ciples." 



OF WASHINGTON. 239 



BOSTON. 

As far back as the year 1676, one hundred years 
before the Declaration of Independence, the court 
of the colony had distinctly declared the fundamental 
principle of the Revolution, that " taxation without 
representation was an invasion of the rights, liber- 
ties, and property of the subjects of his Majesty." 
In 1634, the first beacon was placed on Sentry Hill, 
to give the people warning of approaching danger; 
and a committee was appointed this year to draw 
up the first body of laws for the colony. 

To the people of Middlesex county belongs the 
honor of carrying out the resolutions made in Fan- 
euil Hall on the 26th and 27th of August, 1774. 
The preamble asserted that " we were entitled to 
life, liberty, and the means of sustenance, by the 
grace of Heaven, without the king's leave; and 
that the late act had robbed them of the most essen- 
tial rights of British subjects." 

Revolution had commenced, and the first stirring 
movement was started by General Gage, in remov- 
ing from the powder house in Charlestown, on 
Quarry Hill, by the means of boats, one hundred 
and fifty barrels of powder, and landing it on Tem- 
ple's farm. This fact excited the citizens of Boston 
to much indignation. The removal of the powder 
was magnified into a report that the British had 
cannonaded into Boston. The bells rang, beacon 
fires blazed on the hills, the colonies were greatly 



240 THE MEMORY 

alarmed, and the roads were crowded with armed 
men, rushing to the supposed point of danger. The 
time for action had arrived. Boston had been every- 
where distinguished for its rights, and every in- 
fringement was watched with a jealous eye. It 
was now filled with bold, enterprising men, who 
had established its policy on the foundation of civil 
independence and religious liberty. 

The natural features of the metropolis were al- 
most unchanged. The original peninsula, with its 
one broad avenue by land, to connect it with the 
beautiful country by which it was surrounded, had 
sufficiently accommodated its population. Beacon 
Hill and its neighboring eminences were then mere 
pasture grounds, where grew the wild rose and the 
barbary bush. Copps Hill, one of the earliest spots 
visited by the Pilgrims, and Fort Hill, memorable 
for the imprisonment of Andros and his associates, 
were also of their original height ; and much of the 
whole town was overrun by the tide, and divided out 
into gardens. 

Boston was called the most flourishing town in 
all British America. Its government was peculiar 
to New England. As Tudor says, " The people 
were the subjects of a distant monarch ; but royalty 
was merely in theory with them." Originally the 
inhabitants of the towns managed their affairs in a 
general meeting, but afterwards acted by an execu- 
tive body of seven selectmen. In 1636, the general 
court recognized the towns, and regulated their 
offices and powers. The selectmen were first 



OF WASHINGTON. 241 

chosen for six months, and subsequently for a year. 
*' In this land of bustling," says a physician, " am I 
safe arrived, among the most social, polite, and 
sensible people under heaven ; to strangers friendly 
and kind, to Englishmen most generously so. War, 
that evil, looks all around us ; the country expect 
it, and are prepared to die freemen rather than live 
what they call slaves." 

The population of Boston at this time was about 
seventeen thousand, and generally of English ex- 
traction, and in the enjoyment of equal privileges. 
In the common schools, at public meetings, social 
gatherings, and in the different vocations of life, the 
people met as equals, in a kind of common brother- 
hood. Comfort and enterprise distinctly marked 
the private dwellings of the community. 



BOSTON PATRIOTS. 

These men were distinguished for their primitive 
manners, great faith, purity of life, and uncom- 
promising principles. Those who stood foremost 
in the cause of liberty, and devoted themselves to 
the maintenance of freemen's rights and privileges 
we notice : — 

Samuel Adams. — A great reformer ; a member 
of the Continental Congress ;. a man of stern de- 
cision and integrity of purpose, and whose voice 
, was heard in the midst of party factions. During 



242 THE MEMORY 

the excitement of the Boston Massacre he was most 
active, and through his influence chiefly were the 
British troops removed from Boston. He was one 
of the number who matured the secret plan of pro- 
posing" a general Congress and appointing delegates. 
The Governor, hearing of this movement, sent his 
secretary from Salem to dissolve that body in gen- 
eral assembly, when he, on arriving, found the door 
locked, and the key safely lodged in Adams' pocket. 
When offered a magnificent consideration if he 
would cease his hosiilities to government, from 
Fenton, as the messenger of civil authorities, he 
sent word back, saying : " I trust I have long since 
made my peace wii.h the King of kings. No per- 
sonal consideration shall induce me to abandon the 
righteous cause of my country. Tell Governor 
Gage it is the advice of Samuel Adams no longer 
to insult the feelings of an exasperated people." 

James Otis — So vehement in support of free- 
men's rights, that the British called him mad. Of 
such pure patriotism and stirring eloquence, that 
the people heard him with profound reverence. He 
was a man of fine genius ; but was made a wreck 
by a cruel blow from an enemy. 

John Adams. — His brilliant services in the halls 
of Congress were appreciated by the people ; and, 
as a man of eloquence and learned in the law, he 
was ready by his voice and his pen to defend the 
rights of the people. A loftier genius, a purer pat- 



OF WASHINGTOX. 243 

riot never wore the senatorial garment during the 
struggle for independence. The confidence of 
Congress in him was unlimited. He was at one 
time entrusted with the execution of six missions, 
each of a different character ; and was associated 
with Franklin, Jay, and Laurens as a commissioner 
to conclude treaties of peace with the European 
powers. The last words which fell from his lips 
were uttered on the morning of the 4ih of July — 
" Independence for ever ! " 

John Hancock. — From his local positions, his 
mercantile associations, his great wealth, and love 
of freedom, he was influential in every enterprise 
which favored the comfort, peace, and happiness of 
the colonies. The night preceding the bat;le of 
Lexington, Hancock and Adams lodged together in 
that town. Gage sent an armed party to arrest 
them, and, as the soldiers entered one door, they 
escaped through the other. When Governor Ber- 
nard tried to win him from the side of the patriots, 
and had complimented him with a lieutenant's com- 
mission, Hancock, seeing his nefarious design, took 
his commission from his pocket and tore it up in 
the presence of the people. 

Robert Treat Paine. — A distinguished patriot, 
and son of a clergyman. He advocated a Conti- 
nental Congress, and, in 1774, was elected a mem- 
ber of the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts. 
In 1790, he was appointed Judge of the Supreme 



244 THE MEMORY 

Court, and aided in framing the constitution of his 
native State. His long and active life was conse- 
crated to public service. Having discharged his 
duties as judge, he left the office, in 1804, in conse- 
quence of infirmities, and died in 1814, aged eighty- 
four years. 

Joseph Warren — A celebrated physician, of 
agreeable manners, and much beloved as a friend 
and adviser. He early cherished the great princi- 
ples of liberty, and fell, in his enthusiasm for free- 
dom, on the field of battle, an early martyr to the 
cause. He was a member of several committees, 
and having met on the committee of safety for 
Boston, and hearing the British were attacking the 
works on Breed's Hill, he shouldered his musket, 
and hastened to Charlestown. There he met Put- 
nam, who directed him to the redoubt, saying, — 
" There you will be covered." *' Don't think," 
said Warren, " I come to seek a place of safety ; 
but tell me where the onset will be the most fu- 
rious." He hastened to the spot, mingled in the 
hottest of the battle, where a ball struck him in the 
forehead, and he fell to the ground. Mrs. Adams 
says : " Not all the havoc and devastation they 
have made has wounded me like the death of 
Warren. We want him in the senate, we want him 
in his profession, we want him in the field." As a 
patriot and a man, he was beloved and highly es- 
teemed — " A man whose memory," says a member 
of the committee of safety, " will be endeared to his 



OF WASHINGTON. 245 

countrymen and to the worthy in every part and 
age of the world." On the capture of the redoubt, 
Colonel Snnall endeavored to save the life of War- 
ren, and, seeing him fall, ran towards him, spoke to 
him ; but he only looked up, smiled, and died. 

In a eulogium on Warren the following passage 
indicates that Warren's last words were addressed 
to Captain John Chester, of Connecticut, who was a 
brave officer at the battle of Bunker Hill : — 



" Chester, 'tis past. All earthly prospects fly: 
Death smiles, and points me to yon radiant sky ; 
My friends, my country force a tender tear, 
Eush to my thoughts, and claim my parting care.' 



JosiAH QuiNCY, Jr. — Called the "Boston Cicero " 
— true to the cause of freedom, and full in the con- 
viction that his countrymen would be compelled to 
seal their labors with their blood. He went on a 
confidential mission to England ; but on his return 
he was called to yield up his spirit, when in sight 
of his own native land. 

Thomas Cushing. — A man of extensive personal 
influence among business men — a delegate to the 
Continental Congress. His name was extensively 
known in England by its being fixed to public doc- 
uments. Dr. Johnson says, in a ministerial paper, 
that " one object of the Americans was to adorn 
Cushing's brow with a diadem." 



246 THE MEMORY 

William Phillips. — A merchant of irreproach- 
able character, and for thirty years a deacon of the 
Old South church. He was an active and efficient 
man in the public service, and contributed largely 
of his property to aid the cause of freedom, religion, 
and education. 

Paul Revere. — An ingenious goldsmith, a con- 
fidential messenger of the patriots, and a distin- 
guished leader of the mechanics. 

There were other zealous patriots, equally de- 
serving of notice, who were employed in public 
service, and zealous in attempting to preserve the 
social system, which had found a basis on human 
equality, in this new world. Benjamin Church, 
Nathaniel Appleton, James Bowdoin, Oliver Wen- 
dall, John Pitts, James Lovell, William Cooper, 
William Blolineaux, Benjamin Austin, Nathaniel 
Barber, Gibbons Sharpe, David Jeffries, Henry 
Hill, Henderson Inches, Jonathan Mason, Timothy 
Newell, William Powell, John Rowe, John Schol- 
lay. These asked for the old paths, and claimed 
the ancient rights of their town and the colonies of 
the State. 

SUFFERING IN BOSTON. 

When Major Hawley made the declaration, — 
"We must fight, and make preparation for it," 
Patrick Henry replied : " I am of that man's mind." 
This was the key-note to the calamity that was fast 



OF WASHINGTON. 247 

hastening. The town of Boston presented a differ- 
ent aspect in all its business affairs, and the happy- 
homes and cheerful firesides were overcast with a 
gloomy atmosphere. Parental hearts beat with in- 
tense anxiety at the future prospects of their sons. 
The wharves were deserted, trade dull, and the 
hearts of business men failed them for fear of com- 
ing events. The Port Bill had cut off all foreign 
trade, and checked the whole of its domestic opera- 
tions. Not a raft or keel was allowed to approach 
the town with merchandise. All the stores on Long 
wharf and many others were closed. The neck of 
Boston was beset with soldiers, and the cannon 
mounted. The poor saw their fate, while those 
who possessed a competence were fast coming to 
want. It was a trying season, when there was no 
demand for the products of labor. The town was 
surrounded by a hostile fleet, while a formidable 
army was fast gathering within. Its fields and 
pastures were covered with tents, and the troops 
were daily parading its streets. Mrs. Adams wrote 
a letter at this time, saying: " I view it with much 
the same sensations that I should the body of a de- 
parted friend — as having only put off its present 
glory to rise finally to a more happy state." Its 
supplies came in from the country, with words of 
encouragement and expressions of confidence in ul- 
timate triumph over their oppressors. Town meet- 
ings were continued, and patriots^ true to their 
resolutions, united in strength to act in such a 
manner as would most likely preserve their liber- 



248 THE MEMORY 

ties. This astonished Gage, to see the spirit of 
union prevailing in Massachusetts, and its inhabit- 
ants gaining friends in New York and Philadelphia. 
This led to a general convention at Salem, and to 
the orjranizalion of 



THE 



These men were drilled into discipline, to be 
ready for any emergency. Commanded by Captain 
Davis, deacon of the Danvers parish, with his min- 
ister for lieutenant, they repaired to the field for 
exercise, then marched to the meeting-house to hear 
a patriotic discourse. A company of minute men 
was formed in the town of Lunenburg, " consisting 
of fifty-seven able-bodied men, who appeared in 
arms, and, after going through the several military 
mancsuvres, they marched to a public house, where 
the officers provided a dinner, and from thence to 
the meeting-house, where a sermon, suitable to the 
occasion, was delivered by the Eev. Mr. Adams, 
from Psalms xxvii : 3." 

Preparations were continually made for action by 
the forming of a militia, or minute men, from the 
difl^erent towns. Organized and ready for action, 
obeying every call to parade, sometimes waiting to 
receive parting blessings from their ministers, and 
to take leave of their weeping friends, they entered 
into the service for which they were called, and 
were found active in the various skirmishes and 



OF WASHINGTON. 249 

battles at Concord, Lincoln, Lexington, Cambridge, 
and Charlestown. And on reaching the common 
of the latter town, when pursuing the regulars, 
General Heath ordered them to stop. The battle 
of Bunker Hill was fast approaching. A scene of 
intense interest and excitement prevailed 



IN CHARLESTOWN. 

The inhabitants had heard of the events which 
had just transpired at Lexington and Concord. 
" The schools were dismissed, and citizens gathered 
in groups in the streets. Dr. Warren rode through 
the town, and gave the certain intelligence of the 
slaughter at Lexington ; — a large number went out 
to the fields, and the greater part who remained 
were women and children. It was reported that 
Cambridge bridge had been taken up, and that the 
regulars would be obliged to return to Boston 
through the town. Many prepared to leave, and 
every vehicle was employed to carry away their 
most valuable effects ; others determined to remain 
and abide the worst. Just before sunset the noise 
of distant firing was heard, and soon the British 
troops were seen on the Cambridge road. The in- 
habitants rushed towards the neck ; some crossed 
Mystic River ; some ran along the marsh towards 
Medford ; and the troops soon approached the town, 
firing as they cam.e along. The inhabitants turned 
back into the town, panic-struck. Report went 
16 



250 THE MEMORY 

through the town that the Britons were massacring 
the women and children. Some remained in the 
streets, speechless with terror; others ran to the 
clay pits back of Breed's Hill, where they passed 
the night." 

Dr. Prince, of Salem, relates that, as he was 
standing with a party of armed men at Charlestown 
Neck, a person, enveloped in a cloak, rode up on 
horseback, inquired the news, and passed on ; but, 
spurring the horse, the animal started forward so 
suddenly, caused the rider to raise his arms, throw 
up the cloak, and thus reveal his uniform. The 
men instantly leveled their guns to fire, when Dr. 
Prince exclaimed : " Don't fire at him ! He is my 
friend Small — a fine fellow." Itw^as Major Small, 
with an express from the army. He passed unhurt, 
and V. enc safe to Boston. 



BUNKER HILL. 

On Friday, the 16th of June, the comm^anders of 
the army began preparations to fortify Bunker Hill. 
At the time appointed the soldiers under Colonel 
William Prescott paraded on Cambridge green, and, 
after prayer was offered by President Langdon, of 
Harvard College, they commenced a steady march 
to Charlestown. It was evening; and the colonel, 
clad in a simple uniform, with a blue coat and a 
three-cornered hat, was attended by two sergeants 
with dark lanterns ; the entrenching tools followed 



OF WASHINGTON. 251 

in the rear. They moved on in great silence till 
they halted at Charlestown Neck, where they were 
joined by Brooks, Putnam, and another officer. 
Prescott called together the field officers, and com- 
municated his orders. After much consultation it 
was agreed that Breed's Hill should be fortified, 
and works erected also on Bunker Hill. Here the 
packs were thrown ofT, the guns stacked, the plan 
of fortifications marked out, tools arranged, and the 
men set to work. As they were working that 
night under the star-lighted canopy, the opposite 
shore of Boston was lined with sentinels, and the 
British men-of-war were moored in the bay, and 
among them were the Falcon, the Lively, the 
Glasgow, and the Cerberus. Caution and silence 
were needed at this time while the soldiers em- 
ployed the spade and pickaxe. One man at work 
states that he heard the British sentinels, at inter- 
vals, all night giving the watchvvord, '^ All's wellJ^ 
Brooks and Prescott went down twice to the mar- 
gin of the river that night, when they heard the 
watch on board the British vessels giving the usual 
cry. In the morning the sailors on board these 
ships saw, to their utter surprise, entrenchments to 
the height of six feet, the work of a single night. 
The cap;ain of the Lively, without orders, fired 
upon the fortifications ; the British soldiers aroused, 
and the whole population of Boston, awaking from 
their slumbers, came forth to witness the beginning 
of the — 



THE MEMORY 



SEVENTEENTH OP JUNE. 



All eyes were fixed on the redoubt which crowned 
the summit of Bunker Hill. The men were still at 
work inside the fortifications, preparing platforms 
to stand on, while the British cannon tore up its 
sides with bombs and balls. In less than two hours 
after the rising of the sun, the whole artillery of the 
city, the cannon on board the ships of war, and the 
floating batteries were aimed towards this single 
structure. But the workmen kept on until they 
had run a trench nearly down to Mystic River on 
the north. Martin says, " about a thousand were at 
work," and that " the men dug in the trenches one 
hour, and then mounted guard and were relieved." 
They could not work in the open field under a 
shower of bullets : there was one unprotected spot, 
a meadow, freshly mown, and studded with hay- 
cocks. A single rail fence crossed it from the hill 
to the river, of which Putnam took advantage. He 
ordered the men to take some of the rails near by 
and run them through this, and pile on the hay. 
Soon this rail fence became a huge embankment. 

The cannonade from the British failed to rout 
the American army, which lay stretched over and 
down the hill, nerved with the valor of freemen. 
Early in the day one private was killed, Asa Pol- 
lard, of Billerica. He was ordered to be buried. 
"What!" said an officer ; " without prayer ? " A 
chaplain insisted on performing service over the 



OP WASHINGTON. 253 

first victim, collected some soldiers around him, 
when Prescott ordered them to disperse. 

The day was warm ; not a cloud settled on the 
sky as the British army had crossed the channel, 
and stood in battle array on the shore. The roar 
of cannon from Moreton's Hiil, the thrilling strains 
of martial music, the stirring blast of the bugle, the 
nodding plumes and waving standards, with nearly 
five thousand bayonets glittering in the sunlight, 
and the commanding officers mounted in the sad- 
dle, gave to the whole area of Bunker Hill a scene 
on which the eye had never before gazed. The 
excitement of this hour was intense ; fifteen hun- 
dred sons of Liberty were behind their entrench- 
ments over the hill, coolly awaiting the premeditated 
onset of the enemy. 

Imagine the troops embarking at Long wharf 
and at the North Battery, and the fleet, with their 
field-pieces in the leading barges, moving towards 
Charlestown ; the sun shining in splendor, the reg- 
ular movements of the boats, flags flying, guns 
glistening, and soldiers all equipped for the attack, 
and you may conceive of the imposing spectacle 
which appeared on the bosom of the channel at 12 
o'clock on the memorable seventeenth of June. The 
army landed at Moulton's Point, and immediately 
formed into three lines. Spectators lined the shores, 
mounted the roofs of houses, and filled every church 
steeple, to gaze on the American entrenchments 
and witness the array along the shore. How many 
earnest prayers ascended to Heaven, how many 



254 THE MEMORY 

hearts beat with mingled emotions of hope and fear 
as the 

COLUMNS ADVANCE. 

The main body of the troops formed at Moulton's 
Point, waited quietly for the arrival of reinforce- 
ments. When the barges returned it was nearly 
three o'clock, and about three thousand troops had 
now landed. The time for advancing had come. 
General Howe had command of the right wing, and 
General Pigot of the left,— the latter intending to 
storm the breastworks and redoubt. Howe ordered 
six field-pieces to be loaded with twelve-pound balls. 
The British soldiers began to advance in two dense 
columns. Their progress was slow, being ob- 
structed by the tall grass and the fences, burdened 
with crowded knapsacks, and relaxed by the scorch- 
ing sun. 

The Americans waited their approach. Putnam 
was riding along their lines, encouraging them to 
be firm, and charging them not to fire a shot till 
the enemy was within eight rods. Johnson says 
he distinctly heard him say, " Don't one of you fire 
till you see the white of their eyes." The enemy 
continued to advance in perfect order and brilliant 
array, now and then halting to let the artillery play 
on the entrenchments. At once all was silent; the 
cannon's roar had ceased for a few moments, and 
the two armies we're facing each other. Soon the 
signal of " Fire ! " was given, and a simultaneous 



OF WASHINGTON. 255 

discharge from the redoubt and breastwork did a 
terrible work among the British ranks. After 
bearing up against the American fire, the whole 
British army, rank after rank, broke and retreated 
to the shore ; and a thousand huzzas echoed in the 
air from the redoubt, and were answered from the 
people who thronged the roofs of houses, steeples of 
churches, and the heights of Boston. The discom- 
fited troops along the shore were again rallied by 
their officers, while Putnam spurred his horse and 
galloped off in his shirt-sleeves for reinforcements. 
But the severe fire which swept over Charlestown 
Neck deterred the soldiers from crossing. It is 
said that Putnam rode back and forth several times 
"while the balls ploughed up the earth in furrows 
around him." 

A second attack was made, when the British 
ranks were again riddled by balls ; they broke and 
fled the second time. At this crisis, Charlestown 
was set on fire, by shells thrown from Copps Hill 
by a party of marines from the ship " Somerset ;" 
the air was filled with dense clouds of smoke, and 
the slope in front of the American breastworks was 
covered with the wounded and the dead. For the 
third and last time General Howe, a gallant officer 
and of commanding figure, led the grenadiers and 
light infantry in front of the breastwork, while 
Clinton and Pigot led on the extreme left of the 
troops to scale the redoubt. The soldiers threw 
aside their knapsacks, and, with fixed bayonets, 
marched steadily up the hill to the entrenchments. 



256 THE MEMORY 

One volley from the enemy, and the Americans 
fired their last cartridges, and slackened for the 
want of ammunition. The redoubt was soon scaled 
by General Pigot, who, by the aid of a tree, mounted 
one corner of it, closely followed by his men. 
Prescott, among the last to leave it, was surrounded 
by the enemy, v/hose bayonets he skillfully parried 
with his sword. The British took possession of 
the works, and opened a destructive fire upon the 
retreating troops. Warren, having planted himself 
in front of his own troops, received a shot from an 
English officer, when he fell and expired, and was 
left on the field.^ The English took possession of 
the field ; but the Americans gained the victory. 
This battle on Bunker Hill is recorded as the grand 
opening scene in the American Revolution. 



WASHINGTON AND THE AEMY. 

Washington was on his way to the army when 
the news of the battle at Bunker Hill reached him. 
He arrived at Cambridge, July 2d, about two 
o'clock, escorted by a cavalcade of citizens. and a 
troop of light horse. " It was not difficult," says 
Mr. Thacher, " to distinguish him from all others. 
Being tail and well proportioned, his personal ap- 
pearance is truly noble and majestic. His dress is 

* The next day, among the visitors who went to the battle- 
field were Dr. Jeffries and Young Winslow; they recognized the 
body of Warren, and it was buried on the spot where he fell. 



OF WASHINGTON. 257 

a blue coat with buff-colored facings, a rich epau- 
lette on each shoulder, buff under-dress, and an 
elegant small sword, and a black cockade in his 
hat." 

The army was at this time in a confused state, 
and Washington took command of a body of armed 
men rather than an army of regular ranks of sol- 
diers. They were men of labor and full of patriotic 
zeal, but with hardly powder enough to supply each 
man with nine cartridges. There was no general 
organization, discipline was wanting, and offences 
were frequent. He commenced remodeling the 
army, bringing the soldiers into systematic action. 
The army was arranged into three grand divisions, 
each consisting of two brigades, or twelve regiments. 
The right wing of the army was put under the 
command of Major-general Ward, and consisted of 
two brigades. The left wing was placed under the 
command of Major-general Lee, who had under 
him General Greene, stationed at Prospect Hill, 
and General Sullivan, at Winter Hill. The centre 
was stationed at Cambridge, and commanded by 
Major-general Putnam. 

At this time the environs of Boston presented an 
animating sight. An officer in Boston says : " The 
country is most beautifully tumbled about in hills 
and valleys, rocks and woods, interspersed with 
straggling villages, with here and there a spire 
peeping over the trees, and the country of the most 
charming green that delighted eye ever gazed on." 
The hills were studded with white tents, glittering 



258 THE MEMORY 

bayonets, and frowning cannon ; and a small por- 
tion of the navy lay on the bosom waters of the 
harbor. 

Rev. William Emerson, whose quarters were at 
the foot of Prospect Hill, gives a description of the 
camp after the arrival of Washington. He says, 
" There is a great overturning in the camp as to 
order and regularity — Washington and Lee are 
upon the lines every day. New orders from his 
Excellency are read to the respective regiments 
every morning after prayers. Every one is made 
to know his place and keep in it. Thousands are 
at work every day from four till eleven o'clock in 
the morning. Who would have thought, twelve 
months past that all Cambridge and Charlestown 
would be covered over with American camps, and 
cut up into forts and entrenchments, and all the 
lands, fields, and orchards laid common — horses 
and cattle feeding in the choicest mowing land, 
whole fields of corn eaten down to the ground, 
and large parks of well regulated locusts cut down 
for firewood, and other public uses. It is very di- 
verting to walk among the camps. They are as 
different in their form, as the owners are in their 
dress ; and every tent is a portraiture of the tem- 
per and the tastes of the persons who encamp in it. 
Some are made of boards and others of sail cloths, 
some of turf, birch, or brush. Some are thrown 
up in a hurry, others curiously wrought with doors 
and windows, made with wreaths and withes, in 
the manner of a basket. Some are your proper 



OF WASHINGTON. 259 

tents and marquees, looking like the regular camp 
of the enemy."^ 



BOSTON IN GLOOM. 

When Boston was occupied by the British sol- 
diers, it presented a most deplorable condition. Its 
hills and lawns were dotted with hostile cannon, 
and insolent soldiers occupied its peaceable dwell- 
ings, profaned its temples of worship, and demol- 
ished some of its buildings for fuel. Faneuil Hall 
was made a play-house and many patriotic citizens 
were reduced to want, and even deprived of the 
relief which their friends would gladly have im- 
parted. General Howe at one time sent three hun- 
dred men, women, and children, (poor of the town 
of Boston,) over to Chelsea, without any thing to 
subsist on, at an inclement season of the year, hav- 
ing only six cattle left in the town for food. All 
the public institutions, the press, pursuits of com- 
merce, schools and churches were interrupted. — 
The sound of cannon, every evening and morning, 
were heard from Beacon Hill, with the roll of 
drums, as the relief guards marched to their duties. 
Some of the meeting-houses were converted into 
barracks.! The old North Meeting-House, and a 

* Frotliinghara's Siege of Boston, 
t The Old South Church was formed into a riding school, 
Hollis Street, Brattle Street, the West and the First Baptist 
Meeting-Houses were occupied as hospitals or barracks for the 
troops. 



260 THE MEMOKY 

hundred other v»rooden buildings were taken down, 
and distributed for firewood. Poverty and disease 
reduced the soldiers and inhabitants to great dis- 
tress. 

The time had come, from the condition of both 
armies to bring matters to a close, by the most de- 
cisive action. Changes in the army were constant- 
ly taking place and many of the old regiments were 
hurrying home, with feelings of discontent, pa- 
tience exhausted, and hope gone. From these cir- 
cumstances and from others, this season v/as one of 
great anxiety to Washington, as his letter to Con- 
gress proves. 

Jan. 14. " The reflection upon my situation, 
and that of this army, produces many an uneasy 
hour, when all around me are lorappcd in sleep. 
Few people know the predicament we are in, on a 
thousand accounts ; fewer still will believe, if any 
disaster happen to these lines, from what cause it 
flows. I have often thought how much happier I 
should have been, if instead of accepting a com- 
mand under such circumstances, I had taken my 
musket on my shoulder and entered the ranks, or if 
I could have justified the measure to posterity and 
my own. conscience, had retired to the back coun- 
try, and lived in a wigwam. If I shall be able to 
rise superior to these and many other difliculties 
which might be enumerated, I shall most religious- 
ly believe that the finger of Providence is in it." 

When the army was weak and scantily supplied, 



OF WASHINGTON. 261 

a resolution was passed by Congress, Dec. 22d, au- 
thorizing Washington to attack the British troops 
in the "best manner he might think expedient." 
President Hancock, who had large property in Bos- 
ton, wrote to him — " May God crown your attempt 
with success. I most heartily wish it though I may 
be the greatest sufferer." 

The eyes of the whole continent were fixed upon 
Washington, and many prayers ascended to Heaven 
in his behalf. With much wisdom, foresight and 
deliberation did he plan for the enterprise.^ The 
interest which he felt in the coming movement, the 
importance he attached to a right preparation among 
his soldiers, will be seen by an extract from his 
orders, dated February 26, 1776. 

" All officers, non-commissioned officers and sol- 
diers, are positively forbid at cards and other games 
of chance. At this time of public distress, men 
may find enough to do in the service of their God 
and their country without abandoning themselves 
to vice and immorality. As the season is now fast 
approaching when every man must expect to be 
drawn into the field of action, it is highly impor- 
tant that he should prepare his mind, as well as 
every thing necessary for it." 

* The American troops were accommodated in barracks this 
winter. At Prospect Hill, Roxbury, Dorchester, Sewall's 
Point, at Cambridge Barracks, Winter Hill, in the Old and 
New Colleges, Korth Chapel, and at diflferent places, Inman's 
house, &;c. 



262 THE MEMORY 

In the beginning of March, there were indica- 
tions of an approaching conflict. "Chandeliers, 
fascines, and screwed hay, were collected for en- 
trenching purposes. A large quantity of bandages 
were prepared to dress broken limbs ; forty-five 
batteaux, each capable of carrying eighty men, and 
two floating batteries were assembled in Charles 
River, and militia men were coming into the camp 
from the neighboring towns. 



BOSTON EVACUATED. 

When the morning of March 5th dawned on 
the heights of Boston, the British soldiers were sur- 
prised to see the redoubts which had been thrown 
up by the Americans during the previous night, 
and presenting a serious aspect to their expectations. 
General Howe said, " The rebels have done more 
in one night than my whole army would have 
done in a month," and Lord Dartmouth says, 
" It must have been the employment of at least 
twelve thousand men." One of his officers wrote: 
"They were raised with an expedition equal to 
that of the Genii belonging to AUaddin's won- 
derful lamp." There were now but two alterna- 
tives — either for the British to evacuate the town, 
or to drive the Americans from their works. — 
"Howe entertained a high sense of British pride 
and knew well that he was the commander of a 
powerful force, sufficient to overpower almost any 



OF WASHINGTON. 263 

foe. He resolved to muster his energies and attack 
the new works of the Americans. He accordingly- 
made his arrangements, and put under the com- 
mand of the brave Earl Percy, a body of twenty- 
four hundred men, and ordered them to embark 
for Cattle William and make an attack upon the new 
fortifications. 

It was now a season of intense interest to Wash- 
ington, as he beheld the surrounding heights crowd- 
ed with spectators, fearful that the scenes of Bunker 
Hill might be enacted again. The works had been 
made strong ; and rows of barrels filled with earth 
had been placed in front of the works ready to roll 
upon the enemy down the steep hills. When 
Washington came upon the ground, he said to the 
soldiers, "Remember it is the fifth of March." — 
He fully expected a battle. The attack was delayed 
by a storm coming up in the afternoon, and pre- 
venting the British ships from reaching the place of 
their destination, the surf was so great that the 
boats were unable to land. The next day the wind 
was high, and the rain excessive. On the 7ih of 
March, Howe's fleet was unable to ride with safety 
in the harbor. Such was his critical situation, 
that he convened his officers in council, and on 
this day he resolved to evacuate Boston. He im- 
mediately commenced preparations for departure. 
The heavy artillery was dismounted, spiked, or 
thrown into the sea, and some of the works demol- 
ished. A letter states, '• It was not like the break- 
ing up of a camp, where every man knows his duty ; 



264 THE MEMORY 

it was like departing from your country, with your 
wives, your servants, your household furniture, 
and all your encumbrances." Howe had already 
threatened to destroy Boston in case his army was 
assailed — his ships appeared around it in fearful 
array, and some fears were expressed lest his threat 
might be put into execution. 

The troops were now in Boston waiting for a fair 
wind by which they might depart; during this 
waiting time, the soldiers done some mischief by 
defacing furniture, damaging goods, and breaking 
open stores. March 16th, Washington brought 
matters to a crisis. He fortified Nook's Hill by a 
strong detachment. The British fired into it du- 
ring the night, but the Americans maintained their 
ground, without returning the fire.^ The next 
Sunday, March 17th, Howe commenced early in 
the morning the embarkation of his army. 

Washington watched all their movements, till 
two men, who were sent forward to renconnoitre 
Bunker Hill, and who found the fortress left in 
charge of wooden sentinels, gave the welcome sig- 
nal that Boston was evacuated. A detachment of 
troops was ordered forward to take possession of it, 
while the remainder v^aited at Cambridge. An- 
other party, of about five hundred men, under the 
command of Colonel Learnard, m.arched from Rox- 

* A British officer writes— "It was lucky for the inhabitants 
of Boston, for I am iiiforraed that every thing was prepared to 
set the town in a blaze had they fired one cannon." 



OF WASHINGTON. 265 

bury, unbarred and opened the gates, and entered 
Boston, Ensign Richards bearing the standard. 

On the 20th, the main body of the army marched 
into Boston and " the inhabitants," says Mr. Thrash- 
er, " appeared at their doors and windows ; and 
though they manifested a lively joy at being libera- 
ted from their long confinement, they were not al- 
together free from a melancholy gloom which ten 
months siege had spread over their countenances." 
On the 22d, a multitude of people crowded into 
town. "It is truly interesting," says the same 
author, " to witness the tender interviews and fond 
embraces of those who have been long separated 
under circumstances so peculiarly distressing." 



AMERICAN CONGRATULATIONS. 

The evacuation of Boston occasioned great joy in 
the colonies. It was regarded as a great triumph, 
reflecting the highest honor on Washington and his 
army. Congratulations were sent him from every 
quarter. The following address was presented him 
from the selectmen of Boston : — 

May it please your Excellency : 

The selectmen of Boston, in behalf of themselves 
and fellow-citizens, with all grateful respect con- 
gratulate your Excellency on the success of your 
military operations, in the recovery of this town 
from an enemy, collected from the once respected 
17 



266 THE MEMORY 

Britons, who, in this instance, are characterized by- 
malice and fraud, rapine and plunder, in every 
trace left behind them. Happy are we that this 
acquisition has been made wiih so little effusion of 
human blood, which, next to the Divine favor, per- 
mit us to ascribe to your Excellency's wisdom, 
evidenced in every part of the long besiegement. 
If it be possible to enhance the noble feelings of 
that person, who, from the most affluent enjoyments, 
could throw himself into the hardships of a camp 
to save his country, uncertain of success, 'tis then 
possible this victory will heighten your Excellency's 
happiness, when you consider you have not only 
saved a large, elegant, and once populous city from 
total destruction, but relieved the few wretched in- 
habitants from all the horrors of a besieged town, 
from the insults and abuses of a chagrined and dis- 
graced army, and restored many inhabitants to their 
quiet habitations, who had fled for safety to the 
bosom of their country. 

May your Excellency live to see the just rights 
of America settled on a firm basis, which felicity 
we sincerely wish you, and, at a late period, may 
that felicity be changed into happiness eternal ! 
Signed, 

John Scollay, Timothy Newell, 

Thomas Marshall, Samuel Austin, 
Oliver Wendall, John Pitts, 

Selectmen of Bosto7i. 

To this address Washington replied, closing with 



OF WASHINGTON. 267 

these words : " I heartily pray that the hand of 
tyranny may never more disturb your repose, and 
that every blessing of a kind Providence may give 
happiness and prosperity to the town of Boston." 

On March 29Lh, a joint committee from the 
Council and House of Representatives of Massa- 
chusetts, waited upon Washington with a long and 
flattering testimonial, concluding as follows : " May 
you still go on approved by Heaven, revered by all 
good men, and dreaded by those tyrants who claim 
their fellow-men as their property. May you in 
retirement enjoy that peace and satisfaction of mind 
which always attend the good and the great ; and 
may future generations, in the peaceable enjoyment 
of that freedom, in the exercise of which you shall 
have established, raise the richest and most lasting 
monuments to the name of Washington." 

When Congress received the intelligence of the 
evacuation of Boston, March 25ih, they immediately 
passed a vote of thanks, on motion of John Adams, 
to Washington and the officers and soldiers under 
his command, for their wise and spirited conduct; 
and ordered a gold medal to be struck and presented 
to the general. The medal was struck in Paris, 
from a die cut by Duvivier, containing on the ob- 
verse a head of Washington, exhibiting an excellent 
likeness, and around it the inscription : — 

Geogio Washington, svpremo dvci exercitvvm 

ADSERTORI LIBERATIS COMITIA AmERICANA. 

On the reverse is the town of Boston in the dis- 
tance, with a fleet in view, under sail. Washington 



268 THE MEMORY 

and his officers are on horseback in the foreground, 
and he is pointing to the ships as they leave the 
harbor. 

CONDITION OF BOSTON. 

Two hours after the British left, Dr. Warren en- 
tered Boston. He says : " The houses I found to 
be considerably abused where they had been inhab- 
ited by the common soldiery. The streets were 
clean, and upon the whole the town looks much 
better than I expected. Several hundred houses 
were pulled down, but these were very old ones." 
The house of President Hancock contained his 
family pictures, which remained unhurt, and the 
furniture was left in tolerable good order. The in- 
terior of many houses were badly used. 

Deacon Newell's diary has the following record 
of the Old South meeting-house, which was occu- 
pied for a riding school : " The pulpit, pews, and 
seats all cut to pieces, and carried off; the beautiful 
carved pew, with the silk furniture, of Deacon 

Hubbard's was taken down and carried to 's 

house by an officer, and used for a hog-stye." The 
south door was closed ; a bar was fixed, over which 
the horses leaped at full speed. Spectators occu- 
pied the east galleries, and the west gallery was 
occupied for a refreshment room. In the winter a 
stove was put up, which consumed many of the 
books and manuscripts of Prince's fine library. The 
old parsonage was demolished, and used for fire- 



OF WASHINGTON. 269 

wood. The Old North chapel, which was built in 
1677, in good repair, was pulled down ; and the 
steeple of the West church, built of heavy timber, 
was also taken down, and used for fuel. The 
" Liberty Tree " furnished fourteen cords of wood. 
The Common was much disfigured ; many portions 
of it were turned up into fortifications. Shot and 
shells were found in various parts of the town. — 
Some cartridges, large quantities of wheat and hay, 
oil, medicines, and horses, and other articles were 
left, to a large amount. Such was once the condi- 
tion of the " Beautiful City." " Peace be within 
her walls and prosperity within her palaces." 



THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT. 

A suitable site for the National Monument hav- 
ing been granted by Congress, the Board of Man- 
agers soon after adopted a resolution, declaring that 
the corner-stone of the proposed structure should 
be laid on the 4th of July, 1848, as the day most 
appropriate to so patriotic an object. The address 
was delivered by Hon. R. C. Winthrop. 

Mr. Thomas Symington, of Baltimore, influenced 
by a spirit of patriotism, presented to the society a 
massive block of marble, weighing 24,500 pounds, 
taken from his quarry near that city, for the corner- 
stone. 

The procession, which was decidedly the most 
splendid ever witnessed in Washington, was about 



270 THE MEMORY 

an hour in reaching the site of the monument, 
where every thing was in readiness to lay the stone, 
which forms the commencement of a structure, 
which, it is hoped, will endure till time shall 
close. During its advance the bells of the city 
continued to toll solemnly. In the procession were 
delegations of the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, 
Creek, and Sawbridge Indians, who brought with 
them silver medals, struck in 1786, representing 
Washington in the act of shaking hands with the 
red man, and under whose administration their 
forefathers made some of the earliest treaties of 
peace. 

Among the numerous articles deposited under 
the corner-stone when laid, were two daguerreotype 
likenesses of Washington and his wife. 

Our artist has given an accurate picture of the 
National Washington Monument as it will appear 
when completed, and the reader will observe at 
once the magnitude of the design and its remark- 
able architectural beauty. The plan embraces the 
idea of a grand circular colonnade building, two 
hundred and fifty feet in diameter, and one hundred 
feet high, from which springs an obelisk shaft, sev- 
enty feet at the base, and five hundred feet high, 
forming a monument, for magnitude of design and 
perfection of style, unrivaled in the world. The 
vast rotunda, forming the grand base of the monu- 
ment, is surrounded by thirty columns of massive 
proportions, being twelve feet in diameter and forty- 
five feet high. 



OF WASHINGTON. 273 

A tetrastyle portico (four columns in front) forms 
the entrance to the monument, and serves as a ped- 
estal for the triumphal car and statue of the illus- 
trious chief; the steps of this portico are flanked 
by massive blockings, surmounted by figures and 
trophies. The statues around the rotunda outside, 
are all elevated upon pedestals, and will be those 
of the memorable signers of the Declaration of In- 
dependence. 

In the centre is the lofty obelisk shaft of the 
monument, seventy feet square at the base, and five 
hundred feet high, diminishing as it rises to its 
apex, where it is forty feet square. On each face 
of the shaft is sculptured the four leading events of 
General Washington's eventful career in basso re- 
lievoj and above this the shaft is perfectly plain to 
within fifty feet of its summit, where a simple star 
is placed, emblematic of the reputation which the 
name of Washington has attained. 

In the centre of the monument is placed the tomb 
of Washington, to receive his remains; the descent 
to which is by a broad flight of steps, lighted by the 
same light which illumines his statue. Altogether 
the spot will possess a national interest that will 
be siiared in by every lover of freedom, for 
the sake of him whose life and deeds it commemo- 
rates. 

The language of Webster in reference to the 
capitol, is equally applicable to the monument : — 
" It becomes connected with all the historical asso- 
ciations of our country, with her statesmen and her 



274 THE MEMORY 

orators ; and, alas ! its cemetery is annually en- 
riched with the ashes of her chosen sons. Before 
us is the broad and beautiful river, separating two 
of the original thirteen States, and which a late 
President, a man of determined purpose and inflex- 
ible will, but patriotic heart, desired to span with 
arches of ever-enduring granite, symbolical of the 
firmly cemented Union of the North and South. 
On its banks repose the ashes of the Father of his 
Country, and at our side, by a singular felicity of 
position, overlooking the city which he designed 
and which bears his name, rises to his memory the 
marble column, sublime in its simple grandeur, and 
fitly intended to reach a loftier height than any 
similar structure on the surface of the whole earth. 
Let the votive offering of his grateful countrymen 
be freely contributed to carry higher and still 
higher this monument. May I say, as on another 
occayion : * Let it rise ! let it rise ! till it shall meet 
the sun in his coming- ! let the earliest light of the 
morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on 
its summit.' " 

Several monuments are erected in memory of the 
patriots who fell in the fields of battle during the 
siege of Boston. We make a record of them, as 
given by Mr. Frothingham in his valuable work. 



OF WASHINGTON. 275 



BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 

Monument square is four hundred and seventeen 
feet from north to south, and four hundred feet from 
east to west, and contains about four acres. It em- 
braces the whole site of the redoubt, and a part of 
the site of the breastwork. The monument stands 
where the south-west angle of the redoubt was, and 
the whole of the redoubt was between the monu- 
ment and the street that bounds it on the west. 
The small mound in the north-east corner of the 
square is supposed to be the remains of the breast- 
work. Warren fell about two hundred feet west of 
the monument. An iron fence encloses the square, 
and another surrounds the monument. The square 
has entrances on each of its sides and at each of its 
corners, and is surrounded by a walk and rows of 
trees. 

The obelisk is thirty feet in diameter at the base, 
about fifteen feet at the top of the truncated part, 
and designed two hundred and twenty feet high ; 
but the mortar and the seams between the stones 
make the precise height two hundred and twenty- 
one feet. Within the shaft is a hollow cone, with 
a circular stairway winding round it to the summit, 
which enters a circular chamber at the top. There 
are ninety courses in the shaft — six of them below 
the ground, and the remainder above ground. The 
apex, or cap-stone, is a single stone, four feet square 



276 THE MEMORY 

at the base, and three feet six inches in height, 
weighing two and a half tons. 

The foundation consists of six courses of stone, 
of two feet rise. It is sunk twelve feet below the 
ground, and rises upon a bed of clay and gravel. 

The obelisk contains four faces of dressed stone, 
besides the steps ; the outer wall is six feet thick at 
the bottom and two feet thick at the top. Directly 
in front of the entrance door of the monument, on a 
base of granite, is a model of the original monument 
erected December 2d, 1794, which stood a few rods 
west of the present monument, and on the spot 
where Warren fell. The last stone was raised July 
23, 1842, in the presence of the Government of 
the Association. The completion of the monu- 
ment was celebrated in 1843. Mr. Edward Games, 
Jr., of Gharlestown, accompanied the stone in its 
ascent, waving the American flag. The cost of the 
obelisk was about $120,000 ; the cost of fencing and 
grading about $19,000; and contingent expenses 
about $17,000. 

Monument at Lexington. — Legislature granted 
four hundred dollars to build a monument in this 
town. In 1779, it was erected by the town, under 
"the patronage and at the expense of the Common- 
wealth," to the memory of the eight men who fell 
at the fire of the British troops. It is of granite, 
twenty feet high, stands near the place where they 
were killed, and bears an inscription written by 
Rev. Jonas Clark. 



OF WASHINGTON. 277 

Monument at Concord. — This monument was 
erected near the place where the two soldiers, who 
were killed on the bridge, were buried. In 1824, 
the Bunker Hill Monument Association appropriat- 
ed five hundred dollars to build one in this town ; 
and, at its suggestion, the corner-stone was laid in 
1825. Sixty of the survivors joined in the celebra- 
tion. Edward Everett delivered the address. One 
thousand dollars were afterwards pledged by this 
association for the completion of this monument. 

Monument at Danvers. — On Monday, April 
20th, 1835, the corner-stone of this monum.ent was 
laid, to the memory of seven young men who fell 
on that day in battle. General G. Foster, one of 
the survivors, made the address at the site of this 
monument, in which he stated that over a hundred 
of his townsmen went with him to the field this 
day. A procession proceeded to the church, where 
an address was delivered by Hon. D. P. King. 

Monument at West Cambridge. — This monu- 
ment was erected June 24ih, 1848, over the remains 
of twelve of the patriots slain on that day. The 
names of only three of whom, belonging to what is 
now West Cambridge, are known, viz., Jason Rus- 
sell, Jason Winship, and Jabez Wyman. The 
twelve were buried in a common grave. Their re- 
mains were disinterred and placed in a stone vault, 
now under the monument, April 22d, 1848. This 
is a plain granite obelisk, nineteen feet high, en^ 



2T8 THE MEMORY 

closed by a neat iron fence. It was done by the 
■voluntary contributions of the citizens. 

Monument at Acton. — The granite monument 
is erected at Acton, to commemorate the services 
and death of Captain Isaac Davis, Abner Hosmer, 
and James Hayward, of Acton, who fell at " Con- 
cord Fight." Captain Davis was commander of 
the Acton " minute men," and Hosmer and Hay- 
ward were members of his company, which began 
the attack on the British at Concord bridge, April 
19th, 1775. 

The monument is of granite, seventy-five feet 
high, seventy-five feet square at the base, and four 
feet at the top, and stands in the centre of Acton 
Green. 

The remains of Captain Davis and his two brave 
men vvere exhumed from the village burying 
ground, placed in a coffin, escorted by a large mili- 
tary and civic procession to the monument, and 
there deposited in an aperture prepared for them. 
The dedication of this monument was an occasion 
of great interest. There were present at the table 
two revolutionary soldiers, who were engaged in 
the " Concord Fight " — Dr. Amariah Preston, of 
Lexington, ninety-four years of age, and Benjamin 
Smith, of Wayland, aged eighty-five. There were 
also exhibited several relics of the fight; the shoe 
buckles worn by Captain Davis in the fight, stained 
with blood ; the powder horn and strap worn by 



OF WASHINGTON. 279 

Hosmer in the battle, and the powder horn through 
which Hay ward was shot. 

Monument to Buckminster. — "William Buck- 
minsier was lieutenant-colonel of Brewer's regiment 
at the Bunker Hill battle. He acquired much rep- 
utation for his courage and prudence. Just before 
the retreat he was dangerously wounded by a mus- 
ket ball, which crippled him for life. He was born 
in Franiingham, in 1736; he removed to Barre, 
was chosen, in 1774, to command the minute men. 
He died in 1786. The inscription on his monument 
is said to faithfully describe his character: — 

" Sacred to the memory of Colonel William 
Buckminster. An industrious farmer, a useful cit- 
izen, an honest man, a sincere Christian, a brave 
officer, and a friend to his country; in whose cause 
he courageously fought, and was dangerously- 
wounded at the battle of Bunker Hill. Born De- 
cember 15th, A. D. 1736. Died June 22d, A. D. 
1786. 

Washington's head quaeteiis. 

In July, 1775, the residence of Colonel John Vas- 
sal became the head-quarters of Washington. It is 
situated a short distance from Brattle street, leading 
by Mount Auburn to Watertown, surrounded with 
shrubbery and stately elms. Here, and at Winter 
Hill, the General passed most of his time, after 
taking command of the army, until the evacuation 



280 THE MEMORY 

of Boston. This spacious edifice "stands upon 
the upper of two terraces, which are ascended each 
by five stone steps. At each front corner of the 
house is a lofty elm, mere saplings when Wash- 
ington first saw them, but now stately and patri- 
archal in appearance. Other elms, with flowers 
and shrubbery beautify the grounds around it; 
while within inconaclastic innovations has not been 
allowed to enter with its mallet and trowel, to mar 
the work of the ancient builder, and to cover with 
the stucco of modern art the carved cornices and 
paneled wainscots that first enriched it." It is 
now occupied by Professor Longfellow. 

RiEDESEL House. — A few rods above the resi- 
dence of Prof. Longfellow, is the house in which 
the Brunswick General, the Baron Riedesel and his 
family, were quartered during the stay of the cap- 
tive army in this vicinity. It is said by the Bar- 
oness to be " one of the best houses in this place, 
which belonged to the royalists. It is described 
by Mr. Longfellow thus — " In style it is very much 
like that of Washington's head-quarters, and the 
general appearance of the grounds around is sim- 
ilar. It is shaded by noble linden trees, presenting 
to the eye all the atttaclions noticed by the Baroness 
of Riedesel in her charming letters. Upon a win- 
dow pane on the north side of the house, may be 
seen the undoubted autography of that accomplish- 
ed woman, inscribed with a diamond point. It is 
an interesting memento, and is preserved with great 
care," by the present owner. 



OF WASHINGTON. 281 



WASHINGTON ELM. 



The associations which gather around this noble 
elm, that now stands a living memorial of past 
events, in the city of Cambridge, is well worthy of 
a record in the annals of our history. Its branches 
have spread abroad and far, since Washington, 
under its shade, first drew his sword as the com- 
mander-in-chief, on the 3rd of July, 1775. Here- 
after, pilgrims from all parts of the world will come 
and linger reverentially at this shrine, in homage 
to the spirit of freedom. 

The elm stands like a faithful watchman on Gar- 
den street, near the westerly corner of the common. 
If it could speak, it would be an interesting chron- 
icler of events in the history of the past. Near 
this tree, the early settlers held their public town 
meetings, and in its vicinity the Indian council 
fires were lighted, more than two hundred years 
ago ; and in its shade stood the eloquent White- 
field, discoursing to the multitude in lessons of piety 
and truth. Soldiers of the revolution sleep near 
it, who endured the privations of our national pov- 
erty and suffering. It looks towards Old Harvard 
and Massachusetts Hall, where the weary soldiers 
suspended their hammocks in its beams. Venera- 
ble tree! It bears an illustrious name, and waves 
its branches in the air to remind us of the tempo- 
rary resting-place of the continental army. 

Sometime ago, a fine intelligent boy used to 
18 



282 THE MEMORY 

visit this tree after a heavy wind to pick up the 
scattered leaves, in order to press them and send 
them as a vahiable gift to his distant friends, and 
every bit of broken bough from it was sacredly pre- 
served by him. Another little boy, a lovely child 
of four summers, would walk a long weary dis- 
tance to see this tree, to throw his arms around its 
trunk, and to stand under its shade. His little 
heart swelled high, with noble emotions, as he ex- 
claimed, " this is the good, the brave Washington's 
tree." 

A young lady of foreign descent, a stranger in 
Cambridge, took great pains to gather some of the 
leaves from this tree, to carry home as precious me- 
mentos. Every Fourth of July, while her father 
lived, she had been accustomed to read to him the 
Declaration of Independence, so great was his ad- 
miration of that noble document. Veneration for 
the character of Washington was early planted in 
her heart, and took deep root there. Honor to the 
Washington Elm.^ 

* Cambridge Chronicle. 



OF WASHINGTON. 283 



ANECDOTES OF WASHINGTON. 



Example of Total Abstinence. — Towards the 
dose of the revolutionary war, says Dr. Cox, an 
officer in the army had occasion to transact some 
business with General Washington, and repaired 
to Philadelphia for that purpose. Before leaving, 
he received an invitation to dine with the General, 
which was accepted, and upon entering the room 
he found himself in the company of a large number 
of ladies and gentlemen. As they were mostly 
strangers to him, and he was of a naturally modest 
and unassuming disposition, he took a seat near the 
foot of the table, and refrained from taking an ac* 
tive part in the conversation. Just before the din- 
ner was concluded. General Washington called him 
by name and requested him to drink a glass of 
wine with him. 

*' You will have the goodness to excuse me, 
General," was the reply, " as I have made it a rule 
not to take wine." 

All eyes were instantly turned upon the young offi- 
cer, and a murmur of surprise and horror ran around 
the room. That a person should be so unsocial and 
so mean as to never drink wine, was really too bad; 
but that he should abstain from it on an occasion 
like that, and even when offered to him by Wash- 



284 THE MEMORY 

ington himself, was perfectly intolerable ! Wash- 
ington saw at once the feelings of his guests, and 
promptly addressed them : — " Gentlemen," said he, 

" Mr. is right. I do not wish any of my 

guests to partake of any thing against their inclina- 
tion, and I certainly do not wish them to violate any 
established principle in their social intercourse 

with me. I honor Mr. for his frankness, for 

his consistency in thus adhering to an established 
rule which can never do him harm, and for the 
adoption of which, I have no doubt, he has good 
and sufficient reasons." 

Washington's Debtor. — One Reuben Rouzy, 
of Virginia, owed the General about one thousand 
pounds. While President of the United States, one 
of his agents brought an action for the money ; judg- 
ment was obtained, and execution issued against 
the body of the defendant, who was taken to jail. — 
He had a considerable landed estate, but this kind 
of property cannot be sold in Virginia for debts, 
unless at the discretion of the person. He had a 
large family, and for the sake of his children pre- 
ferred lying in jail to selling his land. A friend 
hinted to him that probably General Washington 
did not know any thing of the proceeding, and that 
it might be well to send him a petition, with a state- 
ment of the circumstances. He did so, and the 
very next post from Philadelphia, after the arrival 
of his petition in that city, brought him an order 
for his immediate release, together with a full dis- 



OF WASHINGTON. 285 

charge, and a severe reprimand to the agent, for 
having acted in such a manner. Poor Rouzy was, 
in consequence, restored to his family, who never 
laid down their heads at night, without presenting 
prayers to Heaven for their " beloved Washington." 
Providence smiled upon the labors of the grateful 
family, and in a few years Rouzy enjoyed the ex- 
quisite pleasure of being able to lay the one thou- 
sand pounds, with the interest, at the feet of this 
truly great man. Washington reminded him that 
the debt was discharged ; Rouzy replied, the debt 
of his family to the father of their country, and 
preserver of their parent, could never be discharged ; 
and the General, to avoid the pressing importunity 
of the grateful Virginian, who would not be denied, 
accepted the money, only, however, to divide it 
among Rouzy's children, which he immediately did. 

Washington and his Friends. — An anecdote is 
told of the great Washington, which exhibits, in a 
fine light, the distinction between public duty and 
private friendship. During his administration as 
President of the United States, a gentleman, the 
friend and the companion of the General, through- 
out the whole course of the revolutionary war, ap- 
plied for a lucrative and very responsible office. — 
The gentleman was at all times welcome to Wash- 
ington's table ; he had been to a certain degree, 
necessary to the domestic repose of a man, who had 
for seven years fought the battles of his country, 
and who had now undertaken the task of wielding 



286 THE MEMORY 

her political energies. At all times, and in all 
places, Washington regarded his revolutionary as- 
sociate with an eye of evident partiality and kind- 
ness. He was a jovial, pleasant, and unobtrusive 
companion. In applying for this office, it was ac- 
cordingl}"" in the full confidence of success ; and his 
friends already cheered him on the prospect of his 
arrival at competency and ease. The opponent of 
this gentleman, was known to be decidedly hostile 
to the politics of Washington ; he had even made 
himself conspicuous among the ranks of opposition. 
He had, however, the temerity to stand as candi- 
date for the office to which the friend and the favor- 
ite of Washington aspired. He had nothing to 
urge in favor of his pretensions, but strong integri- 
ty, promptitude, and fidelity in business, and every 
quality which, if called into exercise, would render 
service to the state. Every one considered the ap- 
plication of this man hopeless ; no glittering testi- 
nionial of merit had he to present to the eye of 
Washington ; he was known to be his political ene- 
my ; he was opposed by a favorite of the General's ; 
and yet, with such fearful odds, he dared to stand 
candidate. What was the result? The enemy of 
Washington was appointed to the offioe, and his 
table companion was left destitute and dejected. — 
A mutual friend, who interested himself in the 
aifair, ventured to remonstrate with the President 
on the injustice of his appointment. "My friend," 
said he, "I receive with a cordial welcome; he 
is welcome to my house, and welcome to my 



OF WASHINGTON. 287 

heart ; but, with all his good qualities, he is not a 
man of business. His opponent is, with all his po- 
litical hostility to me, a man of business; my pri- 
vate feelings have nothing to do in this case. I am 
not George Washington, but President of the Uni- 
ted States ; as George Washington, I would do 
this man any kindness in my power; but as Presi- 
dent of the United States, I can do nothing." 

Escape of General Washington. — Major Fer- 
guson, who commanded a rifle corps in advance of 
the hussars under Kniphausen, during some skir- 
mishing a day or two previous to the battle of 
Brandywine, was the hero of a very singular inci- 
dent, which he thus relates in a letter to a friend. 
It illustrates, in a most forcible manner, the over- 
ruling hand of Providence in directing the opera- 
tions of a man's mind, in moments when he is 
least of all aware of it. 

" We had not lain long, when a rebel officer, re- 
markable by a hussar dress, pressed towards our 
army, within a hundred yards of my right flank, 
not perceiving us. He was followed by another, 
dressed in dark green and blue, mounted on a bay 
horse, with a remarkably high cocked hat. I order- 
ed three good shots to steal near to them, and fire 
at them ; but the idea disgusting me, I recalled the 
order. The hussar, in returning, made a circuit, 
but the other passed within a hundred yards of us, 
upon which I advanced from the wood towards 
him. Upon my calling, he stopped ; but after look- 



288 THE MEMORY 

ing at me, he proceeded, I again drew his atten- 
tion, and made signs to him to stop, leveling my 
piece at him ; but he slowly cantered away. As I 
was within that distance at which, in the quickest 
firing, I could have lodged half a dozen balls in or 
about him, before he was out of my reach, I had 
only to determine ; but it was not pleasant to fire 
at the back of an unoffending individual, who was 
acquitting himself very coolly of his duty ; so I let 
him alone. 

** The day after, I had been telling this story to 
some wounded officers, who lay in the same room 
with me, when one of the surgeons, who had been 
dressing the wounded rebel officers, came in and told 
us that they had been informing him that General 
Washington was all the morning with the light 
troops, and only attended by a French officer in a 
hussar dress, he himself dressed and mounted in 
every point as above described. I am not sorry 
that I did not know at the time who it was." 

Washington's Punctuality. — When General 
Washington assigned to meet Congress at noon, he 
never failed to be passing the door of the hall, while 
the clock was striking twelve. Whether his guests 
were present or not, he always dined at four. Not un- 
frequently new members of Congress, who were in- 
vited to dine with him, delayed until dinner was half 
over, and he would then remark, " gentlemen, we are 
punctual here." When he visited Boston, in 17S8, 
he appointed eight, A. M., as the hour when he 



OF WASHINGTON. 289 

should set out for Salem, and while the Old South 
church clock was striking eight, he was mounting 
his horse. The company of cavalry, which volun- 
teered to escort him, were parading in Tremont 
street, after his departure, and it was not until the 
President reached Charles River Bridge, that they 
overtook him. On the arrival of the corps, the 
President with perfect good nature, said, " Major, 
I thought you had been too long in my family, not 
to know when it was eight o'clock." Capt. Pease, 
the father of the stage establishment in the United 
States, had a beautiful pair of horses, which he 
wished to dispose of to the President, whom he 
knew to be an excellent judge of horses. The Pres- 
ident appointed five o'clock in the morning, to ex- 
amine them. But the Captain did not arrive with 
the horses until a quarter after five, when he was 
told by the groom that the President was there at 
five, and was then fulfilling other engagements. — 
Pease, much mortified, was obliged to wait a week 
for another opportunity, merely for delaying the 
first quarter of an hour. 

Washington's Example. — In one of the towns 
of Connecticut, when the roads were extremely bad, 
Washington, the President of the United States, 
was overtaken one Saturday night, not being able 
to reach the village where he designed to rest on 
the Sabbath. Next morning, about sunrise, his 
coach was harnessed, and he was proceeding for- 
wards to an inn, near the place of worship which 



290 THE MEMORY 

he proposed to attend. A plain man, who was an 
informing officer, came from a cottage, and inquired 
of the coachman, whether there was any urgent 
reason for his traveling on the Lord's day. The 
General, instead of resenting this as impertinent 
rudeness, ordered the driver to stop, and with great 
civility explained the circumstances to the officer, 
commending him for his fidelity, and assuring him 
that nothing was farther from his intention than to 
treat with disrespect the laws and usages of Con- 
necticut, relative to the Sabbath, which met his 
most cordial approbation. How many admirers of 
Washington might receive instruction and reproof 
from his example ! 

Washington's Confession. — Perhaps few facts 
would more forcibly illustrate the views, which even 
reflecting military men take of the nature of war, 
than the following : — 

Thomas Mullet, Esq., an English gentleman, 
being in America, called on General Washington, 
at his residence at Mount Vernon, soon after the 
close of the contest between this country and Great 
Britain. Washington asked him, in the course of 
conversation in his library, if he had met with an 
individual in that country, who could write the his- 
tory of the recent contest. Mr. M. replied that he 
knew of one, and only one, competent to the task. 
The General eagerly asked, " Who, sir, can he be ?" 
Mr. M. replied, " Sir, Caesar wrote his own Com- 
mentaries." The General bowed, and replied, 



OF WASHINGTON. 291 

*' Ctesar could write his Commentaries ; but, sir, I 
know the atrocities committed on both sides have 
been so great and many, that they cannot be faith- 
fully recorded, and had better be buried in oblivion !" 

Braddock and "Washington. — It was the lot of 
Washington to be close to the brave but imprudent 
Braddock when he fell ; and he assisted to place 
him in a tumbril, or little cart. As he was laid 
down, pale and near spent with loss of blood, he 
faintly said to Washington — 

" Well, Colonel, what 's to be done now ? " 

" Retreat, sir," replied Washington ; " retreat by 
all means ; for the regulars won't fight, and the 
rangers are nearly all killed." 

"Poor fellows!" he replied, "poor fellows! — 
Well, do as you will, Colonel, do as you will." 

The army then commenced its retreat, in a very 
rapid and disorderly manner, while Washington, 
with his few surviving rangers, covered the rear. 

Happily, the Indians did not pursue them far ; 
but, after firing a few random shots, returned in a 
body, to fall upon the plunder ; while Washington, 
with his frightened fugitives, continued their retreat, 
sadly remembering that more than one half of their 
morning's gay companions were left a prey to the 
ravening beasts of the desert. There, denied the 
common charities of the grave, they lay for 
many a year, bleaching the lonely hills with their 
bones. 

On reaching Fort Cumberland, where they met 



292 THE MEMORY 

Colonel Dunbar with the rear of the army, General 
Braddock died. He died in the arms of Washing- 
ton, whose pardon he often begged for having 
treated him so rudely that fatal morning — heartily 
wished, he said, he had but followed his advice — 
frequently called his rangers " brave fellows ! glo- 
rious fellows ! " Often said he should be glad to 
live if it was only to reward their gallantry. " I 
have more than once been told," says Mr. Weems, 
*' but cannot vouch for the truth of it, that his sister, 
on hearing how obstinately Washington and his 
Blues had fought for her brother, was so affected, 
that she shed tears ; and sent them from England 
handsome cockades, according to their number, and 
a pair of colors elegantly wrought by her own fair 
hands." 

Mrs. Washington's Dream. — An old lady of 
Fredericksburg used often to relate a dream of Mrs. 
Washington's, and, a few weeks before her death, 
related it to Mr. Weems : — 

" I dreamt," said the mother of Washington, 
" that I was sitting in the piazza of a large new 
house, into which we had but lately moved. George, 
at that time about five years old, was in the garden 
with his corn-stalk plough, busily running little 
furrows in the sand, in imitation of Negro Dick, a 
fine black boy, with whose ploughing George was 
so delighted that it was sometimes difficult to get 
him to his dinner. And so, as I was sitting in the 
piazza at my work, I suddenly heard in my dream 



OF WASHINGTON. 293 

a kind of roaring noise on the eastern side of the 
house. On running out to see what was the mat- 
ter, I beheld a dreadful sheet of fire bursting from 
the roof. The sight struck me with a horror which 
took away my strength, and threw me, almost sense- 
less, to the ground. My husband and the servants, 
as I saw in my dream, soon came up ; but, like 
myself, were so terrified at the sight that they could 
make no attempt to extinguish the flames. In this 
most distressing state, the image of my little son 
came, I thought, to my mind more dear and tender 
than ever ; and turning towards the garden where 
he was engaged with his little corn-stalk plough, I 
screamed out twice with all my might, ' George ! ' 
' George ! ' In a moment, as I thought, he threw 
down his mimic plough, and ran to me, saying : — 
* High ! ma ! what makes you call so angry ? aint 
I a good boy ? don't I always run to you soon as I 
hear you call?' I could make no reply, but just 
threw up my arms towards the flame. He looked 
up and saw the house all on fire ; but, instead of 
bursting out a crying, as might have been expected 
from a child, he instantly brightened up and seemed 
ready to fly to extinguish it. But first looking at 
me with great tenderness, he said : ' ma ! don't 
be afraid : God Almighty will help us, and we shall 
soon put it out.' His looks and words revived our 
spirits in so wonderful a manner, that we all in- 
stantly set about to assist him. A ladder was pre- 
sently brought, on which, as I saw in my dream, he 
ran up with the nimbleness of a squirrel ; and the 



294 THE MEMORY 

servants supplied him with water, which he threw 
on the fire from an American gourd. But that 
growing weaker, the flame appeared to gain ground, 
breaking forth and roaring most dreadfully, which 
so frightened the servants, that many of them, like 
persons in despair, began to leave him. But he, 
still undaunted, continued to ply it with water, ani- 
mating the servants at the same time, both by his 
word and actions. For a longtime the contest ap- 
peared very doubtful ; but at length a venerable 
old man, with a tall cap and an iron rod in his 
hand, like a lightning rod, reached out to him a 
curious little trough, like a wooden shoe. On re- 
ceiving this he redoubled his exertions, and soon 
extinguished the fire. Our joy on the occasion was 
unbounded. But he, on the contrary, showing no 
more of transport now than of terror before, looked 
rather sad at sight of the great harm that had been 
done. Then I saw in my dream that, after some 
time spent as in deep thought, he called out with 
much joy. ' Well, ma ! now if you and the family 
will but consent, we can make a far better roof than 
this ever was — a roof of such a quality, that, if well 
kept together, it will last for ever ; but if you take 
it apart, you will make the house ten thousand times 
worse than it was before.' " 

" This, though certainly a very curious dream, 
needs no Daniel to interpret it, especially if we take 
Mrs. Washington's new house for the young colony 
government — the fire on its east side for North's 
civil war — the gourd which Washington first em- 



OF WASHINGTON. 295 

ployed for the American three and six naonths' en- 
listments — the old man with his cap and iron rod 
for Doctor Franklin — the shoe-like vessel which he 
reached to Washington for the Sabot, or wooden- 
shoed nation, the French, whom Franklin courted 
a long time for America — and the new roof proposed 
by Washington for a staunch honest republic — that 
"equal government," which, by guarding alike the 
welfare of all, ought by all to be so heartily beloved 
as to endure for ever."^ 

Hessians and the Farmers. — To remove from 
the minds of the Hessians their ill-grounded dread 
of the Americans, Washington took great care, from 
the moment they fell into his hands, to have them 
treated with the utmost tenderness and generosity. 
He contrived that the wealthy Dutch farmers should 
come in from the country and converse with them. 
They seemed very agreeably surprised at such 
friendly attentions. The Dutchmen at length pro- 
posed to them to quit the British service, and be- 
come farmers. At this the Hessians paused a lit- 
tle, and said something about parting with their 
country. 

" Your country ! " said the farmers. " Poor fel- 
lows ! Where is your country ? You have no 
country. To support his pomps and pleasures your 
prince has lorn you from your country, and for 
thirty pounds a head sold you like slaves to fight 

* Weems' Life of Washington. 



296 THE MEMORY 

against us, who never troubled you. Then leave 
the vile employment, and come live with us. Our 
lands are rich. Come help us to cultivate them. 
Our tables are covered with fat meats, and with 
milk and honey. Come sit down and eat with us 
like brothers. Our daughters are young and beau- 
tiful and good. Then show yourselves worthy, and 
you shall have our daughters; and we will give 
you of our lands and cattle, that you may work, 
and become rich and happy as we are. You were 
told that General Washington and the Americans 
were savages, and would devour you. But, from 
the moment you threw down your arms, have they 
not been as kind to you as you had any right to 
expect ? " 

" yes ! " cried they; "and a thousand times 
more kind than we deserved. We were told the 
Americans would show us no pity, and so we were 
cruel to them. But we are sorry for it now, since 
they have been so good to us ; and now we love 
the Americans, and will never fight against them 
any more." 

Such was the effect of Washington's policy. 

The Lawyers and Saddle-bags. — It is said of 
Washington, that he would participate with perfect 
freedom, in any innocent amusements that were 
going on around him. When reading a book or a 
newspaper, if he met with an amusing or remarka- 
ble fact, he would read it aloud, for the entertain- 
ment of the company present. He would often re- 



OF WASHINGTON. 297 

late the following anecdote : " On one occasion, 
during a visit to Mount Vernon, while President of 
the United States, he had invited the company of 
two distinguished lawyers, each of whom after- 
wards attained to the highest judicial situations in 
this country. They came on horseback, and for 
convenience, or some other purpose, had bestowed 
their wardrobe in the same pair of saddle-bags, 
each one occupying his side. On their arrival, 
wet to the skin by a shower of rain, they were 
shown into a chamber to change their garments. — 
One unlocked his side of the bag, and the first thing 
he drew forth was a black bottle of whiskey. He 
insisted that this was his companion's depository, 
but on unlocking the other, there was found a huge 
twist of tobacco, a few pieces of corn bread, and 
the complete equipment of a wagoner's pack-saddle. 
They had exchanged saddle-bags with some travel- 
er on the way, and finally made their appearance 
in borrowed clothes." 

A Beautiful Design.— While Washington lived 
in retirement, at Mount Vernon, a Mrs. Van Ber- 
shel, an intimate friend of the family, presented 
Mrs. Washington on her illustrious husband's birth- 
day, with an elegant fancy piece, designed and exe- 
cuted by herself. The bust of the hero was well 
painted, and the likeness tolerably well preserved. 
Near it were three sisters, one of whom appeared 
to be occupied in spinning the thread of life — 
the second in winding it — and the third was with- 
19 



298 THE MEMORY 

held by tlie strong arm of the Genius of Immortal- 
ity from applying to it the fatal shears, and bearing 
it off into eternity. It was a beautiful and appro- 
priate tribute on the President's birth day. The 
following lines were inscribed beneath the picture : 

" In vain the sisters ply with busy care, 
To reel off years from Glory's deaihle^s heir, 
Frail things may pass, his fame shall never die, 
Rescued from Fate by Immortality." 

Washington and the Young People. — On one 
occasion a large company of young persons as- 
sembled at Colonel Blackburn's residence to wel- 
come the arrival of Washington. While there, he 
was unusually cheerful and animated, but he per- 
ceived that when he made his appearance, the 
young people seemed restrained in their amuse- 
ments, and stood in the corner of the rooms, in sol- 
emn silence, and in reverence for the great man. — 
He endeavored to remove this restraint, by joining 
with them in their plays, and by pleasant conversa- 
tion. But perceiving the spell remained on the 
young circle, he retired among the older people in 
the adjoining room, appearing unhappy at the re- 
straint his presence had put upon them. The 
young people soon resumed their animated dance, 
when Washington, rising cautiously from his seat, 
walked on tiptoe to the door, which was p;irtly open, 
and contenipiiued the scene for a quarter of an 
hour, unobserved by any of the young people. 



OF WASHINGTO^f. 299 

Washington's Self-Command.— Judge Brecken. 
riclge, the author of " Modern Chivalry," relates 
the following anecdote of Washington : " The Judge 
was a great humorist, and on one occasion he rnet 
with Washington at a public house, where a large 
company had gathered, for the purpose of discuss- 
ing the question of improving the navigation of the 
Potomac, They took supper at the same table, 
and the judge labored with all his powers of hu- 
mor, to divert the General, but in vain. He seem- 
ed aware of his purpose, and listened without a 
smile. The rooms in which they lodged over night 
were separated only by a thin partition of pine 
boards. The General had retired first, and when 
the Judge had entered his own room, he overheard 
Washington laughing heartily to himself, at the 
recollection of the stories which he, the Judge, had 
related at the supper table." 

Washington and the Corporal. — Some time 
in the year 1776, it became necessary for the pro- 
tection of Long Island, which the British were de- 
sirous of possessing, as it abounded with fresh pro- 
visions, to construct works of defence, extending 
from Wallabout Bay to Red Hook. In prosecuting 
this work, as is usually the case, small parties work- 
ed Vt different places on the line, under the super- 
intendence of a subaltern officer. It so happened 
that one of these parties had to place a heavy piece 
of timber, which, with their united efToris, they 
were unable to manage ; they, however, were strug- 



800 THE MEMORY 

gling to accomplish the task, whilst the officer con- 
tented himself with standing by, directing and en- 
couraging them when they would make an eifort, by 
shouting, " Hurra boys, no-iv^ right u-p^ he-a-te,''^ 
etc., without laying hold, as he should have done, 
and helping them with their difficult task. Fortu- 
nately for them at this time, a horseman rode up. 
Approaching the officer, he asked why he did not 
lend a helping hand, seeing his men stood in so 
great a need of help ? The gentleman officer seem- 
ed utterly astonished and indignant, at the presump- 
tion of the insolent stranger, and answered, " What, 
sir ! I lend a helping hand ! Why ! I'll have you 
to know, sir, that I'm a Corporal!''' The horse- 
man alighted, took hold with the men, and in a 
little time, by his help, the timber was placed as 
required. Then turning to the Corporal, he said, 
" Mr. Corporal, my name is George Washington. 
I have come over from New York, to inspect the 
works here ; so soon as you have done this piece 
of work, you will meet me at your commander's — 
General Sullivan's quarters." 

Washington and Morris. — Robert and the 
Quaker. — When Congress fled to Baltimore, as the 
British advanced across New Jersey, Mr. Morris, 
after removing his family into the country, retuAed 
to Philadelphia, and remained there. Washington 
wrote him, saying, that, " to make any successful 
movement, a large sum of money was needed," — a 
requirement which, at that time, seemed almost 



OF WASHINGTON. 301 

impossible to meet. Mr. Morris left his counting- 
room for his lodgings, in utter despondency. On 
his way he met a wealthy Quaker, and made 
known his wants. " What security canst thou 
give ? " asked the Quaker. " My note and my 
honor," said Morris. " Robert, thou shalt have it," 
replied the Quaker. It was sent to Washington, 
the Delaware was crossed, and the victory won. 

An Emergent Case. — At the time Washington 
was devising an attack upon Sir Henry Clinton, 
while in his camp on the Hudson, in 1781, Mr. 
Morris and Judge Peters, of Pennsylvania, were 
then at head-quarters. Washington received a letter 
from Count de Grasse, announcing his determina- 
tion not to sail for New York. He was bitterly 
disappointed ; but, before the cloud had passed from 
his brow, he conceived the expedition against Corn- 
wallis at Yorktown. " What can you do for me ?" 
said Washington to Peters. " With money every 
thing, without it nothing," he replied, at the same 
time turning with an anxious look toward Morris. 
" Let me know the sum you desire," said Mr. 
Morris ; and before noon Washington's plans and 
estimates were complete. Mr. Morris promised the 
amount, and he raised it on his own responsibility. 

Too Familiar. — At a social party to which 
Washington was invited, his remarkable traits were 
the subject of earnest description among the com- 
pany ; and it was insisted that no one, however in- 



302 THE MEMORY 

timate, would dare to take a liberty with him. In 
a foolish moment of elation, Gouvenor Morris ac- 
cepted a bet that he would venture upon the experi- 
ment. Accordingly, just before dinner was an- 
nounced, as the guests stood in a group by the fire, 
he introduced a somewhat lively chat, and, in the 
midst of it, apparently from a casual impulse, clap- 
ped Washington familiarly on the shoulder. The 
latter turned and gave him a look of such mild and 
dignified, yet grieved surprise, that even the self- 
possession of his friend deserted him. He shrunk 
from that gaze of astonishment, at his forgetfulness 
of respect. The mirth of the company was instantly 
awed into silence. 

Blind in the Sekvice. — When the American 
troops were quartered at Newburg, at the close of 
the revolutionary war, and the soldiers were stirred 
up to rebellion against the government by the 
famous anonymous letters, which, it has since been 
ascertained, were written by General Armstrong, 
then a major in the army, General Washington 
convened the officers for the purpose of addressing 
them on this subject, and calming the tumult which 
was beginning to rage in their bosoms. He held a 
paper in his hand, on which the remarks he intend- 
ed to make were written ; and then it was that, 
finding himself unable to read without assistance, 
as he was drawing his spectacles from his pocket, 
that unpremeditated expression broke from him — 
one of the most pathetic that ever fell from human 



OP WASHINGTON. 303 

lips — ''^Fellow citizens,''^ said he, " you see I have 
not only gro grey, but Mind in your service.'^ 
The effect of this remark was electrical. No bosom, 
no eye was proof against it. 

Public Spirit. — The interest Washington took 
in the welfare of his own family, in enriching and 
adorning his own lands, extended also to the nation. 
He well knew that the people who were reaping 
the plentiful harvest from their own industry, could 
not well convey their produce to market without 
more convenient channels and better roads. He 
therefore proposed the importance of forming canals 
and making cuts between the beautiful rivers run- 
ning through the United States. And, taking the 
responsibility himself to ascertain the advantages of 
such an enterprise, he ascended the sources of the 
great rivers, measured the distance between them, 
discovered obstacles in the way of navigation, and 
counted the cost of removing them. Congress see- 
ing the advantage of the enterprise, extended the 
navigation of James River, the noblest stream in 
"Virginia. Struck with the plan suggested by- 
Washington, and grateful for the labors and ex- 
pense he had made in rendering it feasible, they 
urged him to accept one hundred and fifty shares of 
the company's stock, amounting to near $40,000. 
But he refused it, saying, " What will the world 
think, if they should know that I have taken this 
sum for this affair ? Will they not be apt to sus- 
pect, on my next proposition, that money is my 



304 THE MEMORY 

motive ? Thus, for the sake of money, which, in- 
deed, I never coveted from my country, I may lose 
the power of doing to her some service, which may 
be worth more than all the money." 

Washington's Hospitality. — In a letter to his 
overseer, written in 1775, he gives the following di- 
rections, which illustrates his systematic benevo- 
lence to the poor : — 

" Let the hospitality of the house, with respect to 
the poor, be kept up. Let no one go away hun- 
gry. If any of this kind of people should be in want 
of corn, supply their necessities, provided it does 
not encourage them in idleness ; and I have no 
objections to your giving my money in charity, to 
the amount of forty or fifty pounds a year, when 
you think it well bestowed. You are to consider 
that neither myself nor wife are in the way to do 
these good offices. In all other respects I recom- 
mend it to you, and have no doubt of your observ- 
ing the greatest economy and frugality ; as I sup- 
pose you know that I do not get a farthing for my 
services here, more than my expenses. It becomes 
necessary, therefore, for me to be saving at home." 

" The overseer," says Paulding, " was ordered 
to fill a large crib with corn every season, for the 
use of his poor neighbors ; and when, on one occa- 
sion, much distress prevailed in the country around, 
on account of the failure of the harvest, he purchas- 
ed several hundred bushels of corn at a high price, 



OF WASHINGTON. 305 

to be given away to those most in want, and most 
deserving relief. 

A Friend to the Poor. — Washington exercised 
much judgment in giving and distributing his char- 
ities among the poor. Mount Vernon was noplace 
for worthless beggars. When such persons called 
for charity, he took occasion to give them a moral 
lesson, to remind them of the great crime of robbing 
the public of their services, and of begging what 
was actually due to the real poor. If the charac- 
ter of the beggar was good, if the applicant were 
a sober, and industrious person, who had been vis- 
ited by misfortune — such persons were never turn- 
ed away empty. Large quantities of wool, corn, 
wood, bacon, and clothes, were distributed among 
the poor, from his inexhaustible store-house. He 
was a good and wise steward. 

Mr. Peake, a good manager of one of Wash- 
ington's plantations, says, " I had orders to fill a 
corn-house every year, for the sole use of the poor 
in my neighborhood ; to whom it was a most sea- 
sonable and precious relief; saving numbers of 
poor women and children from miserable famine." 

Lund Washington, a manager of his Mount Ver- 
non estate, had similar orders. One time, when 
corn was very dear, (a dollar per bushel;) that many 
of the poor were near starving, he was ordered by 
the General, to give away all that could be spared, 
and to purchase several hundred bushels for them 
besides. 



306 THE MEMORY 

He also founded a charity school in Alexandria. 
It is well known that Washington received only the 
precise amount of the expenditures which were in- 
curred in the discharge of his public duties, for the 
term of eight years. He refused the offer of one 
hundred and fifty shares of the public works, au- 
thorized by his native State. As he had no chil- 
dren, he manifested a parental kindness, and a fath- 
er's hospitality, to his relatives and dependants. 

Lafayette's Son. — In 1795, the son of Marquis 
de Lafayette, made his escape from France, and 
came to Boston. Washington hearing of his arri- 
val, sent his respects to the young man, stating that 
for certain reasons he could not publicly notice him, 
yet begged him to consider himself as his friend, 
father and protector. Washington arranged for him 
to enter Harvard University, and gave him per- 
mission to draw on him for whatever money was ne- 
cessary to defray his expenses. Congress, on hearing 
the youth was in America, made inquiry into his 
condition, and proposed aiding him out of the Na- 
tional treasury ; but on hearing of the generous 
offer which Washington had made for him, they 
saw that their proposal was unnecessary. 

The Effect of Smiles. — After his work was 
over for the day, it is said that Washington took 
much pleasure in the company of his family, and 
with his friends. He possessed a very cheerful, 
kind and indulgent spirit; and those who were ac- 



OF WASHINGTON. 307 

customed to his smiles, say, "that there was some- 
thing in them peculiarly touching. They were more 
apt to draw tears of gratitude than to awaken gaye- 
ty." One of his kinsman, who when a child, spent 
much time at Mount Vernon, says, " that when the 
General patted him on the head, and gave him one 
of his affectionate smiles, he always felt the tears 
swelling under his eyelids." 

The Old Charger. — Did Washington sell his 
faithful old horse ? This question arises from a 
statement made in an edition of" Plutarch's Lives," 
in a note appended to the biography of Caio, the 
censor, as follows : " Yet Washington, the Terti' 
us Cato of these later times, is said to have sold his 
old charger." This statement was made on hear- 
say. Colonel Lear, who resided at Mount Vernon, 
and was private secretary of Washington, at the 
time of his death, he informed Mr. Paulding, that 
the report was without any foundation. The cir- 
cumstances are these : The horse which Washing- 
ton was accustomed to ride about his plantation, 
after his retirement from public life, was sold, not 
by himself, but by one of his heirs. His old war 
horse was put under the special care of an aged 
servant, who was with him in the campaigns. He 
was never rode after the conclusion of the war, and 
died long before his master. 

Washington and Payne. — Mr. Payne relates 
the following anecdote of Washington, which oc- 



308 THE MEMORY 

curred in the Fairfax court, when Payne was hav- 
ing a case tried. The lawyer on the other side of 
the question in court, perceiving that he was in dan- 
ger of losing his case, resorted to a course of rea- 
soning by which he hoped to raise the prejudices 
of the court against Mr. Payne. Washington was 
present. "Please your worships," said the lawyer, 
" as proof that this Payne is a most turbulent fel- 
low, and capable of all I tell you, be pleased to re- 
member that this is the very man, who some time 
ago treated our beloved Colonel Washington so 
barbarously ; who dared in this very court-house 
yard, to lift his impious hand against that greatest 
and best of men, and knocked him down as though 
he had been a bullock of the stalls." 

This brought from the spectators a tremendous 
stamping on the floor, and caused Payne to look 
rather sad. Washington immediately arose and 
addressed the court thus — 

" As to Mr. Payne's character, we all have the 
satisfaction to know that it is unexceptionable, and 
with respect to the little difference which formerly 
happened between him and myself, it was instantly 
made up ; and we have lived on the best terms ever 
since ; moreover, I wish all my acquaintances to 
know, that I entirely acquit Mr. Payne of blame 
in that affair, and take it all on myself, as the ag- 
gressor." 

Payne relates another anecdote of Washington, 
which shows the goodness of his heart — 

*' Immediately after the war," said he, " when 



or WASHINGTON. 809 

the conquering hero was returning in peace to his 
home, with the laurels of victory green and flour- 
ishing on his head, I felt a great desire to see him, 
and so I set out for Mount Vernon. As I drew 
near the house, I began to experience a rising fear, 
lest he should call to mind the blow I had given 
him in former days. However, animating myself, 
I pushed on ; Washington met me at the door, 
with a smiling welcome, and presently led me in- 
to an adjoining room, where Mrs. Washington sat. 
' Here, my dear,' said he, presenting me to his 
lady, ' here is the little man you have so often 
heard me talk of; and who, on a difference be- 
tween us one day, had the resolution to knock me 
down, big as I am. I know you will honor him, 
as he deserves, for I assure you he has the heart 
of a true Virginian.' He said this, continued Mr, 
Payne, with an air which convinced me that his 
long familiarity with war had not robbed him of a 
single spark of the goodness and nobleness of 
heart, by w^hich he was so eminently distinguished." 

The Meeting-House Question. — As a proprie- 
tor of land, Washington had to take part in many 
kinds of local business. His capacity, judgment 
and experience, gave him extensive influence 
among his neighbors. As a vestry man of Truro 
Parish, in which he resided, parochial affairs occu- 
pied much of his attention. The clergyman of the 
parish relates of him the following story : " The 
church beino- old and ruinous, it was resolved to 



310 THE MEMORY 

build a new one, and several meetings of the par- 
ishioners were held to determine on the site. The 
question at length divided the parish into two par- 
ties, one insisting that the church should be built 
on the site of the old one, the other insisting on its 
being built in a more central situation. The con- 
servatives appeared to have the majority; and 
when, at a final meeting, George Mason, a friend 
and neighbor of Washington, and an influential 
man in the colony, made an eloquent speech, about 
not deserting a spot hallowed by so many venera- 
ble associations, and in which the bones of their 
fathers were buried ; such was the effect, that it 
seemed that the resolution to adhere to the old site 
would be carried without a dissenting voice. At 
this moment, Washington rose up, and taking from 
his pocket a plan of the parish, in which were 
marked the two disputed sites, and the posiiion of 
all the houses of all the parishioners, spread it out 
before them, and bidding them forget Mr. Mason's 
speech, and attend to the difl^erences of the distan- 
ces they would have to travel, in going to church, 
as exhibited by the map. The result was, that the 
new site was agreed on. 



OF WASHINGTON. 311 



JUVENILE ANECDOTES. 

Practical Education. — Some idea of Mr. Wash- 
ington's plan of education may be collected from 
the following anecdote, related to Mr. Weems, 
twenty years ago, by an aged lady, who was a dis- 
tant relative, and, when a girl, spent much of her 
time in the family: — 

" On a fine morning," said she, " in the fall of 
1737, Mr. Washington having little George by the 
hand, came to the door and asked my cousin Wash- 
ington and myself to walk with him to the orchard, 
promising he would show us a fine sight. On ar- 
riving at the orchard, we were presented with a fine 
sight indeed. The whole earth, as far as we could 
see, was strewed with fruit; and yet the trees were 
bending under the weight of apples, which hung in 
clusters like grapes, and vainly strove to hide their 
blushing cheeks behind the green leaves. ' Now, 
George,' said his father, 'look here, my son ; don't 
you remember when this good cousin of yours 
brought you that fine large apple last Spring, how 
hardly 1 could prevail on you to divide with your 
brothers and sisters ; though I promised you that if 
you would but do it, God would give you plenty of 
apples this fall.' Poor George could not say a 
word ; but, hanging down his head, looked quite 
confused, while with his little naked toes he 
scratched in the soft ground. ' Now look up, my 
son,' continued his father, ' look up, George ! and 



312 THE MEMORY 

see there how richly the blessed God has made 
good my promise to you. Wherever you turn your 
eyes, you see the trees loaded with fine fruit; many 
of them indeed breaking down ; while the ground 
is covered with mellow apples, more than you could 
eat, my son, in all your life time.' 

" George looked in silence on the wide wilder- 
ness of fruit. He marked the busy humming-bees, 
and heard the gay notes of birds ; then lifting his 
eyes, filled with shining moisture, to his father, he 
softly said : ' Well, pa, only forgive me this time ; 
and see if I ever be so stingy any more.' " 

George and his Hatchet. — When George was 
about six years old, he was made the wealthy mas- 
ter of a hatchet ! of which, like most little boys, he 
was immoderately fond, and was constantly going 
about chopping every thing that came in his way. 
One day, in the garden, where he often amused 
himself hacking his mother's pea-sticks, he unluck- 
ily tried the edge of his hatchet on the body of a 
beautiful young English cherry-tree, which he 
barked so terribly, that I don't believe the tree ever 
got the better of it. The next morning the old 
gentleman, finding out what had befallen his tree, 
which, by the by, was a great favorite, came into 
the house, and, with much warmth, asked for the 
mischievous author, declaring at the same time that 
he would not have taken five guineas for his tree. 
Nobody could tell him any thing about it. Presently 
George and his hatchet made their appearance. 



OP WASHINGTON. 313 

** George," said his father, '* do you know who 
killed that beautiful little cherry-tree yonder in the 
garden ? " This was a tough question, and George 
staggered under it for a moment, but quickly recov- 
ered himself; and, looking at his father with the 
sweet face of youth brightened with the inexpressi- 
ble charm of all conquering truth, he bravely cried 
out : " I can't tell a lie, pa ; you know I can't tell 
a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet." " Run to my 
arms, you dearest boy ! " cried his father in trans- 
ports ; "run to ray arms; glad am I, George, that 
you killed my tree ; for you have paid me for it a 
thousand-fold. Such an act of heroism in my son 
is of more worth than a thousand trees, though 
blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest 
gold." 

Instructive Experiment. — One day Mr. Wash- 
ington went into the garden, and prepared a little 
bed of finely pulverized earth, on which he wrote 
George's name at full, in large letters, then strew- 
ing in plenty of cabbage seed, he covered them up, 
and smoothed all over nicely with the roller. This 
bed he purposely prepared close along side of a 
gooseberry walk, which, happening at this time to 
be well hung with ripe fruit, he knew would be 
honored with George's visits pretty regularly every 
day. Not many mornings had passed away before 
in came George, with eyes wild rolling, and his lit- 
tle cheeks ready to burst with great news. 

" O pa ! come here ! come here ! " 
20 



314 THE MEMORY 

" What 's the matter, my son ? what 's the mat- 
ter ? " 

"O come here, I tell you, pa; come here! and 
I'll show you such a sight as you never saw in all 
your life time." 

The old gentleman, suspecting what George 
would be at, gave him his hand, which he seized 
with great eagerness, and tugging him along through 
the garden, led him. point blank to the bed whereon 
was inscribed, in large letters, and in all the fresh- 
ness of newly sprung plants, the full name of 

GEORGE WASHINGTON. 

" There, pa ? " said George, quite in an ecstasy 
of astonishment, *'did you ever see such a sight in 
all your life time ? " 

*' Why it seems like a curious afTair, sure enough, 
George ? " 

•' But, pa, who did make it there ? who did make 
it there ? " 

" It grew there by chance, I suppose, my son." 

"By chance, pa? O no ! no! it never did grow 
there by chance, pa ; indeed that it never did ! " 

" High ! why not, my son ? " 

An interesting conversation went on between 
them about the existence of God, when young 
George asked , — 

" But, pa, where is God ? I did never see him 

yet." 

*♦ True, my son ; but though you never saw him, 



OP WASHINGTON. 315 

yet he is always with you. You did not see me 
when, ten days ago, I made this little plant bed, 
where you see your name in such beautiful green 
letters ; but though you did not see me here, yet 
you know I was here." 

" Yes, pa, that I do ; I know you was here." 

"Well, then, and as my son could not believe 
that chance had made and put together so exactly 
the letters of his name, (though only sixteen,) then 
how can he believe that chance could have made 
and put together all those millions and millions of 
things that are now so exactly fitted to his good?" 

He would have gone on ; but George, who had 
hung upon his father's words with looks and eyes 
of all-devouring attention, here broke out — 

" pa, that 's enough ! that 's enough ! It can't 
be chance, indeed — it can't be chance that made 
and gave me all these things." 

" What was it then, do you think, my son ? " 

" Indeed, pa, I don't know unless it was God 
Almighty." 

"Yes, George, he it was, my son, and nobody 
else." 

" Well, but, pa," continued George, "does God 
Almighty give me everything? Don't you give 
me some things, pa ? " 

"I give you something indeed ! O how can I 
give you any thing, George ? I who have nothing 
on earth that I can call my own, no, not even the 
breath I draw ! " 

" High, pa ! is n't that great big house your house, 



316 THE MEMORY 

and this garden, and the horses yonder, and oxen, 
and sheep, and trees, and every thing — isn't all 
yours, pa ? " 

" no, my son, no ! why you make me shrink 
into nothing; George, when you talk of all these 
belonging to me, who can't even make a grain of 
sand! O, how could I, my son, have given life to 
those great oxen and horses, when I can't give life 
even to a fly ? — no ! for if the poorest fly were 
killed, it is not your father, George, nor all the 
men in the world, that could ever make him alive 
again." 

At this George fell into a profound silence, while 
his pensive looks showed that his youthful soul was 
laboring with some idea never felt before. Perhaps 
it was at that moment that the good Spirit of God 
ingrafted on his heart thai germ of piety which filled 
his after life with so many of the precious fruits of 
morality. 

A Juvenile Production. — About the middle of 
January, Washington, after returning from his ex- 
pedition to the Indians, returned to Williamsburg; 
and, instantly wailing on the governor, presented him 
with the fruits of his labors, the belts of wampum 
which he had brought from the Indian kings as 
pledges of their friendship, the French governor's 
letters, and, last of all, his journal of the expedition. 
This, it seems, he had drawn up as a tub for the 
whale, that he might be spared the pain of much 
talking about himself and his adventures. For, like 



OF WASHINGTON. 317 

the king of Morven, "though mighty deeds rolled 
from his soul of fire, yet his words were never 
heard." The governor was much pleased with the 
Indian belts, more with the Frenchman's letter; 
but most of all with Washington's journal, which 
he proposed to have printed immediately. Wash- 
ington begged that his excellency would spare him 
the m.ortification of seeing his journal sent out into 
the world in so mean a dress. He urged that, hav- 
ing been written in a wintry wilderness, by a trav- 
eler, young, illiterate, and often cold, wet, and 
weary, it needed a thousand amendments. "Hoot 
awa. Major," replied his excellency, " hoot awa, 
mon ; what tauk ye aboot amendments. I am sure 
the pamphlet need nae blush to be seen by his 
majesty himsel — and in geud troth I mean to send 
him a copy or twa of it. And besides our Assembly 
will rise to-morrow or next day, and I wish each of 
the members to take a kw copies hame with them. 
So we must e'en strait-way print the journal off 
hand as it is." 

The journal, of course, was immediately printed. 
Every eye perused it, and every tongue was loud in 
its praise. 

Washington's Muscular Strength. — The mere 
play at marbles and tops, was not sufficient exer- 
cise for Washington when a boy. He preferred 
such exercise as would give strength and elasticity 
to his whole constitution. In jumping with a long 
pole, or for pitching heavy weights, he scarcely had 
an equal. At running, there was none to match 



318 THE MEMORY 

him. John Fitzhugh, Esq., who knew him well, 
says, " There was a young Langhorn Dade, of 
Westmoreland, who was a mighty swift runner. — 
In running with George, he did not like to give it 
up, and would often say that he brought George to 
a tie. I have seen them run together, he says, 
many a time, and George always beat him easy 
enough." 

Colonel Lewis, his playmate and kinsman, says, 
" that he has often seen him throw a stone across 
the Rappahannock, at the lower ferry of Fredericks- 
burg. It would be difficult to find a man who 
could do it now." 

Washington's father was a man of strong muscu- 
lar power. His gun, which is called Washington's 
fowling-piece, and now the property of Harry 
Fitzhugh, of Chotank, is of such enormous weight, 
that not one man in fifty can fire it without rest. — 
It is said that the General made nothing of holding 
it at arm's length, and shooting swans on the Poto- 
mac, to the number of seven or eight at a shot." 

Washington and the Stinsons. — The seven 
sons of the Widow Slinson were young men of 
herculean size, and were equal to any seven sons of 
any one mother. Washington cultivated the ac- 
quaintance of this family, as the young men prom- 
ised him an abundance of that manly exercise in 
which he delighted. " In front of the house lay a 
fine extended green, with a square of several hun- 
dred yards. When George had closed his daily 
toils in surveying, he and his young companions 



OF WASHINGTON. 319 

would resort to this green, and like a young Greek, 
training for the Olympic games, "see," as ihey 
termed it " which was the best man," at running, 
jumping, and wrestling — so great was their ambi- 
tion to excel each other, that they would often stay, 
especially on moonlight evenings, till bed-iime. — 
TheCrawfords and Siinsons, though not taller than 
George, were much heavier, and in wrestling at the 
close Indian hug, he seldom gained much triumph, 
but in all exercises of agility, they stood no chance 
with him. 

These young men by spending their evenings to- 
gether, in innocent exercises, contracted a friend- 
ship which lasted for life. Twenty-five years after, 
when Washington was called to lead the American 
army, he gave commissions to all of these young 
men, who chose to join the army. William Craw- 
ford was advanced to the office of Colonel. Hugh 
Stinson, who was noted for snapping his eyes when 
any thing pleased him, would brighten up at the 
name of Washington, and would say to his friends, 
"that he and his brother John had often laid the 
conqueror of England on his back ; but in the run- 
ning and jumping, they were no match for Wash- 
ington." ^ 

A Sight at Washington. — "In the year 1790, I 
stood upon the door step of the counting-house, of 
which I was then the youngest clerk, when the 
companion beside me hurriedly said : 'There he 

* Weems' Life of Washington. 



320 THE MEMORY OF WASHINGTON. 

comes ! there comes Washington !' I looked up 
Pearl street, and saw approaching, with stately 
tread and open brow, the father of my country. — 
His hat was ofT, for the day was sultry, and he was 
accompanied by Col. Page and James Madison. — 
Never have I forgotten, nor shall I forget, till my 
dying day, the serene expression of the counte- 
nance of that Man. His lofty mien and command- 
ing figure, set off to advantage by an elegant dress, 
consisting of a blue coat, buff small clothes, silver 
knee and shoe-buckles, and white vest; his pow- 
dered locks and powerful, vigorous look, for he 
was then in the prime and strength of manhood, 
have never faded from my mind, during the many 
years, with the changes, which have rolled between ! 
As Washington passed the place where I stood, 
his mild, clear blue eye, fell upon me, and it seem- 
ed as though his very glance was a benediction. — 
Many years after, I dwelt in the very house in which 
the Great Defender lived ; I slept in the very room 
in which he slumbered. Sometimes an ancient 
friend of the family would point out with irrepress- 
ible pleasure and honorable pride, the very spot 
where ' the General ' stood, and where his ' Lady ' 
stood, on grand reception days. And then the old 
man, sighing, said to my mother, with the ever ret- 
rospective glance of age, 'Ah! madame, those were 
palmy days !" — An aged man. 



THE END 



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